The Original One
by Sophia893
Summary: I'm a demigod. A child of... well you'll see whose child I am. My life is just the same cycle. Until he arrives. Who's he you wonder? It's... Percy Jackson. My... 'I've never met a demigod quite like you before Perseus Jackson. I hope you make it because we'll all learn something from you yet. Good luck.'
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: All rights of this amazing book go to Rick Riordan.  
This is my 1st fanfic so I hope you enjoy it!  
**

* * *

 ** _Prologue_**

After living for as long as I have you'll learn many things:

1) Demigods have the worst lifestyle ever.

2) Despite all this training (in a way, exercise) we have gone though in our lives, this lifestyle is not healthy.

3) Starbucks is the best drink you could ever have!

I could go on and say the many, many, things I have learnt throughout my time living on this earth. However, that would take too much time and would probably bore all your minds and make you want to call a monster to kill me or something!

I'm getting off track...

If you hadn't of guessed. That's me in the the photo. Let me introduce myself properly then. My name is Jessalyn Sophia Loukas. I have black hair which turns a dark brown on occasion and blue eyes. I'm pale; eerily so, it seems. I love to use the bow and arrow but throwing knives are the second best weapon you can have which is then followed on by the classic sword. I am technically 14, no 15; I can't remember any more... That doesn't matter. If it wasn't obvious, I'm a girl and a demigod - a demigoddess. I've lived in many places and I've travelled a lot. I've been to Rome, Paris, London, Tokyo, Sidney but now I'm in Manhattan. It's been many years since I moved here and yet I'm still as lonely as ever! Depressing, I know!

I can feel it though. Something is going to change. For good or for bad, I don't know yet but it's there. Subtle and yet distinct. It's going to be big but I feel as if it's so much more.

There hasn't been a change in a while. It's going to be an interesting experience! I hope it's worth it. After all, not a lot of change can interest a…


	2. What Just Happened?

**Quick A/N: I would just like to warn you, the first couple of chapters will be similar, practically the same as the book plot-wise, until the chapter after Percy gets claimed. I will also be bringing in elements from the film the I liked but other than that, I hope you guys like my story...**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or plot. Only the twists I put into the plot and my character. All the rights to the main plot and characters belong to Rick Riordan.**

 **Half Boy. Half God. All Hero**

* * *

 _ **I Accidentally Vaporise My Pre – Algebra Teacher**_

Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood.

If you're reading this because you think you might be one, my advice is: close this book right now. Then throw it far away from you because the knowledge inside may kill you - on a bad day that is. On a good day you may survive this. Believe whatever lie your mom or dad told you about your birth, and try to lead a normal life.

Being a half – blood is dangerous. It's scary. Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways.

If you're a normal kid, reading this because you think it's fiction, great. Read on. I envy you for being able to believe that none of this ever happened. Trust me though, all of the stuff you read is the truth, as horrible as it is, it's the truth.

But if you recognize yourself in these pages―if you feel something stirring inside―stop reading immediately. Do what I said above and throw this book as far away from you as you can or they'll feel you since you might be one of us. And once you know that, it's only a matter of time before _they_ sense it too, and they'll come for you. After that you'll be running and fighting for the rest of your life.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

My name is Percy Jackson.

I'm twelve years old. Until a few months ago, I was a boarding student at Yancy Academy, a private school for troubled kids in upstate New York.

Am I a troubled kid?

Yeah. You could say that.

I could start at any point in my short miserable life (to be fair, it's not as miserable as I say it is, it's quite short in a way since I am only twelve) to prove it, but things really started going bad last May, when our grade six class took a field trip to Manhattan- twenty-eight-mental-case kids and two teachers on a yellow school bus, heading for the Metropolitan Museum of Art to look at ancient Greek and Roman stuff.

I know - it sounds like torture. Especially being stuck on a bus with our menace of a class and our okay and horrid teachers. I'll let you guess which teacher is which. Most Yancy field trips were torture even if we didn't go that many trips - the school didn't usually have enough funds to take us on trips. But Mr. Brunner, our latin teacher was leading this trip, so I had high hopes. But then again, this is still a school trip so it's still probably gonna be torture to endure.

Mr. Brunner was this middle aged guy in a motorized wheelchair. He had thinning hair and a scruffy beard and a frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled like coffee. You wouldn't think he was cool, but he told stories and jokes and would let us play games in class. He also had this awesome collection of Roman armor and weapons, so he was the only teacher whose class didn't put me to sleep. I know, I know what you are saying, "He sleeps in his classes? What an ungrateful little brat. Blah blah blah blah blah." Trust me, I've heard it all before.

I hoped the trip would be ok. At least, I hoped for once I wouldn't get in trouble.

Boy was I wrong.

See, bad things happen to me on field trips. Like at my fifth-grade school, when we went to the Saratoga battlefield, I had this accident with a Revolutionary War cannon. I wasn't aiming for the school bus but of course, I got expelled anyway. And before that, at my fourth-grade school when we took a behind-the-scenes tour of the Marine World shark pool, I sort of hit the wrong lever on the catwalk and our class took an unplanned swim. And the time before that... Well, you get the idea.

This trip, I was determined to be good. As good as I can be from previous experiences.

All the way into the city I put up with Nancy Bobofit, the freckly, redheaded kleptomaniac girl, hitting my best friend Grover in the back of the head with chinks of peanut butter-and-ketchup sandwich.

Grover was an easy target. He was scrawny. He cried when he got frustrated. He must've been held back several grades, because he was the only sixth grader with acne and the start of a wispy beard on his chin. On top of all that, he was crippled. He had a note excusing him from PE for the rest of his life because he had some kind of muscular disease in his legs. He walked funny, like every step hurt him, but don't let that fool you. You should have seen him run when it was enchilada day in the cafeteria. He's one quick queer guy! On top of that, he's my best friend, my only friend I've had in a while.

Anyway, Nancy Bobofit was throwing wads of sandwich that stuck in his curly brown hair, and she knew I couldn't do anything back to her cause I was already on probation. The headmaster threatened me with death by in-school suspension if anything bad, embarrassing, or even mildly entertaining happened on this trip. Which is too bad since we all need a little fun in our lives, especially that old bat since all he does at school is yell and yell in his croaky voice, you'd think that there was a frog screaming at you.

"I'm going to kill her," I mumbled.

Grover tried to calm me down. "It's ok. I like peanut butter." He dodged another piece of Nancy's lunch. Trust me buddy, I like peanut butter too but not if it's being thrown at me.

"That's it." I started to get up, but Grover pulled me back to my seat.

"You're already on probation," he reminded me. "You know who'll get blamed if anything happens."

I don't particularly care, she's annoying the hell out of me; she needs to be stopped or I'm gonna blow a fuse!

Looking back on it, I wish I'd decked Nancy Bobofit right then and there. In-school suspension would've been nothing compared to the mess I was about to get myself into.

Mr. Brunner led the museum tour. He rode up front in his wheelchair, guiding us through the big echoey galleries, past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery.

It blew my mind that this stuff had survived for two thousand, three thousand years maybe even older. I wonder how they managed that? They could be fakes though, imagine the best and most famous museum being filled with fake artifacts, oh the scandal! Hah, just kidding!

He gathered us around a thirteen-foot-tall stone column with a big sphinx on the top, and started telling us how it was a grave marker, a stele for a girl our age. He told us about the carvings on the sides. I was trying to listen to what he had to say, because it was kind of interesting, (I know it was a shocker for me too!) but everyone around me was talking, and every time, I told them to shut up, the other teacher chaperone, Mrs. Dodds, would give me the evil eye. Honestly, I know you don't like me but it's not my fault, it's there's so don't glare at me!

Mrs. Dodds was this little math teacher from Georgia who always wore a black leather jacket, even though she was fifty years old. She looked mean enough to drive a Harley right into your locker. Hah, that thought always makes me laugh! Imagine your grandmother riding on the freeway on a motorbike and leather jacket. How awkward would that be when you see an old women on a motorbike beside your car window. Do you show torus chocked face, smile, wave, what? I'm getting off track, anyway... She had come to Yancy halfway through the year, when our last math teacher had a nervous breakdown. It wasn't because of me though, I almost promise!

From her first day, Mrs. Dodds loved Nancy Bobofit and figured _I_ was devil spawn. She would point her finger at me and say, "Now honey," real sweet and I knew I was going to get after-school detention for a month.

One time, after she'd made me erase answers out of old math workbooks until midnight, I told Grover I didn't think Mrs. Dodds was human. He looked at me, real serious, and said, "You're absolutely right."

Mr. Brunner kept talking about the Greek funeral art which was kinda weird since I took Latin and not Greek but I'm not gonna correct the guy. After all I am the student between us so there's gotta be some respect.

Finally, Nancy Bobofit snickered something about the naked guy on the _stele_ , and I turned around and said, "Will you _shut up?_ "

It came out louder than I meant it to.

It always is.

The whole group laughed. Mr. Brunner stopped his story.

"Mr. Jackson," he said, "did you have a comment?"

I blushed so hard that my face was totally red. I probably looked like a tomato with a mop of black hair on the top of it instead of the leafy stuff and two green dots poking out of the surface. I said, "No, sir."

Mr. Brunner pointed to one of the pictures on the _stele_. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?"

I looked at the carving and felt a flush of relief, because I actually recognized it. "That's Kronos eating his kids, right?"

"Yes," said Mr. Brunner obviously not satisfied. "And he did this because..."

"Well..." I racked my brain trying to remember. "Kronos was the king god, and-"

"God?" Mr. Brunner asked.

"Titan," I corrected myself. I course it's a Titan! I can never get the answer right at first try can I? Why does fate hate me so much!

"And... he didn't trust his kids, who were the gods. So, um, Kronos ate them, right? But his wife hid baby Zeus and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead. And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters-"

"Eeew!" said one of the girls behind me. I know, we're all disgusted but you don't need to scream in my ear!

"-and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans," I continued, "and the gods won."

Some snickers from the group. I got the answer right you know, so why you guys laughing at me? Do I have something on my back? Slowly, I inched my hand up my back, as if to scratch it, to check. Great. Nothing there so why did they laugh?

Behind me, Nancy Bobofit mumbled to a friend, "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'"

"And why, Mr. Jackson," Brunner said, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"

"Busted," Grover muttered.

"Shut up," Nancy hissed, her face even brighter red than her hair.

At least Nancy got packed, too. Mr. Brunner was the only one who every caught her saying anything wrong. He had radar ears.

I thought about his question, what kind of question is that? How am I supposed to know? So I shrugged. "I don't know, sir."

"I see," Mr. Brunner looked disappointed. "Well, half credit, Mr. Jackson. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe and scattered him remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?" Happy note, pretty depressing if you ask me!

The class drifted off, the girls holding their stomachs, the guys pushing each other around and acting like doofuses.

Grover and I were about to follow when Mr. Brunner said, "Mr. Jackson."

I knew what was coming.

I told Grover to keep going. Then I turned toward Mr. Brunner. "Sir?"

Mr. Brunner had this look that wouldn't let you go―intense brown eyes that could've been a thousand years old and had seen everything.

"You must learn the answer to my question," Mr. Brunner told me.

"About the Titans?"

"About real life. And how your studies apply to it."

"Oh." Why do I need to learn that? This is way to serious for Latin class! What's going on?

"What you learn from me," he said, "is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson."

I wanted to get angry, this guy pushed me so hard. But he's one of the only few who do; it's a different feeling. Strange, yet comforting.

I mean, sure it was kind of cool on tournament days, when he dressed up in a suit of Roman armor and shouted: "What ho!" and challenged us, sword point against chalk, to run to the board and name every Greek and Roman person who ever lived, and their mother, and what god they worshipped. But Mr. Brunner expected me to be as good as everybody else, despite the fact I have dyslexia and attention deficit disorder and I have never made above a C- in my life. No―he didn't want me to be _as good_ he expected me to be _better_. And I just couldn't learn all those names and facts, much less spell them correctly.

I mumbled something about trying harder, while Mr. Brunner took a long sad look at the stele, like he'd been at this girl's funeral.

He told me to go outside and eat my lunch.

The class gathered on the front steps of the museum, where we could watch the foot traffic along Fifth Avenue. An enthralling sight, I know.

Overhead, a large storm was brewing, with clouds blacker than I'd ever seen over the city. I figured maybe it was Global warming or something, because the weather all across New York State had been weird since Christmas. We'd had massive snow storms, flooding, wildfires from lightning strikes. I wouldn't have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in. It's as if the weather was having a war against itself. The sky seemed angry, it's been such a strange thing to see.

Nobody else seemed to notice. Some of the guys were pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers. Nancy Bobofit was trying to pickpocket something from a lady's purse, and, of course, Mrs. Dodds wasn't seeing a thing. Wait, maybe it's because she is like 50! Maybe she caught see. Better not say that to her, she'd probably get really mad!

Grover and I sat on the edge of the fountain, away from the others. We thought that maybe if we did that, everybody wouldn't know we were from _that_ school―the school for loser freaks who couldn't make it elsewhere. Plus I don't wanna be anywhere near Nancy.

"Detention?" Grover asked.

"Nah," I said. "Not from Brunner. I wish he'd lay off me sometimes. I mean―I'm not a genius."

Grover didn't say anything for a while. Then, when I thought he was going to give me some deep philosophical comment to make me feel better, he said, "Can I have your apple?"

I didn't have much of an appetite, so I let him take it. Surprising really since I'm almost always hungry.

I watched the stream of cabs going down Fifth Avenue and thought about my mom's apartment, only a little ways uptown from where we sat. I hadn't seen her since Christmas. I wanted so bad to jump in a taxi and head for home. She'd hug me and be glad to see me, but she'd be disappointed, too. She'd send me right back to Yancy, remind me that I had to try harder, even if this was my sixth school in six years and I was probably going to get kicked out again. I wouldn't be able to stand that sad look she'd give me. I had to disappoint her.

Mr. Brunner parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate celery while he read a paperback novel. A red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like a motorized cafe table.

I was about to unwrap my sandwich when Nancy Bobofit appeared in front of me with her ugly friends―I guess she'd gotten tired of stealing from the tourists―and dumped her half-eaten lunch in Grover's lap. Oh my god! She is either really clumsy or this girl really wants a fight!

"Oops." She grinned at me with her crooked teeth. Her freckles were orange, as if somebody had spray-painted her face with liquid Cheetos.

I tried to stay cool. The school counselor had told me a million times, "Count to ten, get control of your temper." Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. But I was so mad my mind went blank. A wave roared in my ears.

I don't remember touching her, but the next thing I knew, Nancy was sitting on her butt in the fountain, screaming, "Percy pushed me!"

Mrs. Dodds materialized next to us. Wow, this lady is fast!

Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see―"

"―the water―"

"―like it grabbed her―"

I didn't know what they were talking about. All I knew was that I was in trouble again. Mum's gonna be so disappointed...

As soon as Mrs. Dodds was sure poor little Nancy was okay, promising to get her a new shirt at the museum gift shop, etc., etc., Mrs. Dodds turned on me. There was a triumphant fire in her eyes, as if I'd done something she'd been waiting for all semester. "Now, honey―"

"I know," I grumbled. "A month erasing workbooks."

That wasn't the right thing to say. I know! I shouldn't have said that! I practically handed over my head on a platter but come one if the same lady gives you the same punishment months on end, you kinda know what's gonna happen next right?

"Come with me," Mrs. Dodds said.

"Wait!" Grover yelped. "It was me. _I_ pushed her."

I stared at him, stunned. I couldn't believe he was trying to cover for me. Mrs. Dodds scared Grover to death. Most things scare him. I thing even bunnies scare him; but that's another story for another time...

She glared at him so hard his whiskery chin trembled. Come on Grover! Fight back...


	3. What Just Happened? Part II

"I don't think so, Mr. Underwood," she said.

"But―"

"You― _will_ ―stay―here."

Grover looked at me desperately.

"It's okay, man," I told him. "Thanks for trying."

"Honey," Mrs. Dodds barked at me. "Now."

Nancy Bobofit smirked.

I gave her my deluxe I'll-kill-you-later stare. I then turned to face Mrs. Dodds, but she wasn't there. She was standing at the museum entrance, way at the top of the steps, gesturing impatiently at me to come on.

How'd she get there so fast? Like I said. One fast old lady!

I have moments like that a lot, when my brain falls asleep or something, and the next thing I know I've missed something, as if a puzzle piece fell out of the universe and left me staring at the blank place behind it. The school counselor told me this was part of the ADHD, my brain misinterpreting things.

I wasn't so sure. I've never been sure.

I went after Mrs. Dodds.

Looking, it was the one of the worst mistakes I've ever made in my life...

Halfway up the steps, I glanced back at Grover. He was looking pale, cutting his eyes between me and Mr. Brunner, like he wanted Mr. Brunner to notice what was going on, but Mr. Brunner was absorbed in his novel. Hope it's an interesting novel.

I looked back up. Mrs. Dodds had disappeared again. She was now inside the building, at the end of the entrance hall.

Okay, I thought. She's going to make me buy a new shirt for Nancy at the gift shop.

But apparently that wasn't the plan. Good because I don't think I have any spare cash on me anyway...

I followed her deeper into the museum. When I finally caught up to her, we were back in the Greek and Roman section.

Except for us, the gallery was empty.

The fact the gallery was empty should have made giant bells ring in my head! **DANGER! DANGER!** But no, apparently I don't react to dangerous situations really well...

Mrs. Dodds stood with her arms crossed in front of a big marble frieze of the Greek gods. She was making this weird noise in her throat, like growling. _Suddenly_ I felt as if someone else was in the room alongside is. I felt as if someone was staring at me. Discretely looking around, no one was there. It must be nothing.

Even without the noise, I would've been nervous. It's weird being alone with a teacher, especially Mrs. Dodds. Something about the way she looked at the frieze, as if she wanted to pulverize it...

"You've been giving us problems, honey," she said.

I did the safe thing — something I rarely do. I said, "Yes, ma'am."

She tugged on the cuffs of her leather jacket. "Did you really think you would get away with it?" Get away with pushing Nancy? I don't think I even did that, did I?

The look in her eyes was beyond mad. It was evil. She gave off a malevolent aura but...

...she's a teacher, I thought nervously. It's not like she's going to hurt me.

That thought paralysed me a little so when my power over speech returned to me, I managed to stutter out, "I'll―I'll try harder, ma'am."

Thunder shook the building. See, the sky is angry, why's it angry. It's like it's been PMS-ing for the last couple of months or something.

"We are not fools, Percy Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said. "It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you will suffer less pain." Pain? I don't like pain! Can teachers do this? Has there been a change in the law, corporal punishment is allowed again? I'm confused, what's going on?

I didn't know what she was talking about. All I could think of was that the teachers must've found the illegal stash of candy I'd been selling out of my dorm room.

Or maybe they'd realized I got my essay on Tom Sawyer from the Internet without ever reading the book and now they were going to take away my grade. Or worse, they were going to make me read the book. **All** 336 pages of **torture!**

"Well?" she demanded.

"Ma'am, I don't..."

"Your time is up," she hissed. Then the weirdest thing happened. Her eyes began to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretched, turning into talons. Her jacket melted into large, leathery wings. She wasn't human. She was a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice me to ribbons. I don't know if she's uglier as an old woman or how she is currently.

Then things got even stranger.

Mr. Brunner, who'd been out in front of the museum a minute before, wheeled his chair into the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand. How's that gonna help me with her, him – it...

"What ho, Percy!" he shouted, and tossed the pen through the air. Why do you say 'what ho?' What did he say? Pen. What pen?

Mrs. Dodds lunged at me.

With a yelp, I dodged and felt talons slash the air next to my ear. Oh catch the pen! I snatched the ballpoint pen out of the air, but when it hit my hand, it wasn't a pen anymore. It was a sword―Mr. Brunner's bronze sword, which he always used on tournament day. What the...? How did that...

No time for that...

Mrs. Dodds spun toward me with a murderous look in her eyes.

My knees were jelly. My hands were shaking so bad I almost dropped the sword.

She snarled, "Die, honey!" Why do you call me 'Honey' when you are about to kill?

And she flew straight at me.

Absolute terror ran through my body. I did the only thing that came naturally: I swung the sword.

The metal blade hit her shoulder and passed clean through her body as if she were made of water. _Hisss!_

Mrs. Dodds was a sand castle in a power fan.

She exploded into yellow powder, vaporized on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red eyes were still watching me. I still wanna know the answer to my question you know...

I was alone. Yet I felt as if someone was still staring at me.

There was a ballpoint pen in my hand.

Mr. Brunner wasn't there. Nobody was there but me.

 _"Well done Perseus. I knew you could do it!"_

I flinched with the use of my full name and spun around to see who said that. The voice was gentle and proud but it seemed as if it was an echo.

 _ **There.**_

In the shadows stood a figure. I couldn't see who or what it was. The voice was gentle so it is a she. The darkness hid away most of her features but the light shining through the gallery windows did reveal some things to me.

She had startling blue eyes and high cheek bones under her transcendent pale skin. She seemed really pale, a contrast to the darkness hiding her, and yet it suited her. Her raven hair faded into the dark and that was all I could see. I couldn't see anything else.

A faint quirk of her lips and she shut one of her eyes, she winked, I presume and then...

My day seems to be getting stranger and stranger.

The girl seemed to blend into the shadows until eventually she disappeared as if she was never there in the first place.

My hands were still trembling. My lunch must've been contaminated with magic mushrooms or something.

Had I imagined the whole thing? What was that thing? Was that pen really a sword? Who was that girl?

I went back outside as the masses of questions consumed me. It had started to rain. Great another thing to make my day worse!

Grover was sitting by the fountain, a museum map tented over his head. Nancy Bobofit was still standing there, soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to her ugly friends. When she saw me, she said, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt."

I said, "Who?"

"Our teacher. Duh!"

I blinked. We had no teacher named Mrs. Kerr. I asked Nancy what she was talking about.

She just rolled her eyes and turned away.

I asked Grover where Mrs. Dodds was.

He said, "Who?"

But he paused first, and he wouldn't look at me, so I thought he was messing with me. He's such a bad liar!

"Not funny, man," I told him. "This is serious."

Thunder boomed overhead.

I saw Mr. Brunner sitting under his red umbrella, reading his book, as if he'd never moved.

I went over to him.

He looked up, a little distracted. "Ah, that would be my pen. Please bring your own writing utensil in the future, Mr. Jackson."

I handed Mr. Brunner his pen. I hadn't even realized I was still holding it.

"Sir," I said, "where's Mrs. Dodds?"

He stared at me blankly. "Who?"

"The other chaperone. Mrs. Dodds. The pre-algebra teacher."

He frowned and sat forward, looking mildly concerned. "Percy, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I know, there has never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling all right?"

* * *

PS: if there are SPAG mistakes: spelling, punctuation and grammar. Then please tell me if there is!

Other than that. How was it? Good? Bad? Comment and let me know please!

I'll update as soon as possible if you guys liked it but other than hoped you guys liked it! ?


	4. The Three Creepy Ladies

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or plot. Only the twists I put into the plot and my character. All the rights to the main plot and characters belong to Rick Riordan.  
**

* * *

 _ **Three Old Ladies Knit The Socks of Death**_

I was used to the occasional weird experience, but usually they were over quickly. This twenty-four/seven hallucination was more than I could handle. Questions constantly followed me for the rest of the school year and the entire campus seemed to be playing some kind of trick on me. If they were, it wasn't funny! The students acted as if they were completely and totally convinced that Mrs. Kerr-a perky blond woman whom I'd never seen in my life until she got on our bus at the end of the field trip-had been our pre-algebra teacher since Christmas.

Every so often I would spring a Mrs. Dodds reference on somebody, just to see if I could trip them up, but they would stare at me like I was psycho. That's one thing that hasn't changed, I'm a psycho in everyone's eyes it seems.

It got so I almost believed them-Mrs. Dodds had never existed.

Almost.

But Grover couldn't fool me. He never could since he's such s bad liar. I would giving him lying lessons but then he'd be able to lie to me! When I mentioned the name Dodds to him, he would hesitate, then claim she didn't exist. But I knew he was lying.

Something was going on. Something _had_ happened at the museum. I'm sure of it. The thing and the girl. It was real. I know it was.

I didn't have much time to think about it during the days, but at night, visions of Mrs. Dodds with talons and leathery wings would wake me up in a cold sweat. And yet there always seemed to be a presence near me, gazing at me in concern. But when I looked around, no one was there.

The freak weather continued, which didn't help my mood. One night, a thunderstorm blew out the windows in my dorm room. Don't worry! I wasn't hurt. When the windows blew in, the wind seemed to slow it down until they just dropped to the floor. It went no one near me! A few days later, the biggest tornado ever spotted in the Hudson Valley touched down only fifty miles from Yancy Academy. Again, I seemed to be in the wrong place at the worst time. I was outside when the large gusts of winds came in. However, the wind died down when it started to pull me away from the school. One of the current events we studied in social studies class was the unusual number of small planes that had gone down in sudden squalls in the Atlantic that year. It was horrible really, all those innocent people going down with the plane! How tragic!

I started feeling cranky and irritable most of the time. My grades slipped from Ds to Fs. Not really an all time low for me but it's gonna disappoint mum. I got into more fights with Nancy Bobofit and her friends. I was sent out into the hallway in almost every class.

Finally, when our English teacher, Mr. Nicoll, asked me for the millionth time why I was too lazy to study for spelling tests, I snapped. I called him an old sot. I wasn't even sure what it meant, but it sounded good.

The headmaster sent my mom a letter the following week, making it official: I would not be invited back next year to Yancy Academy.

Fine, I told myself. Just fine.

I was homesick.

I wanted to be with my mom in our little apartment on the Upper East Side, even if I had to go to public school and put up with my obnoxious stepfather and his stupid poker parties. Words can't describe how horrid he is.

And yet . . . there were things I'd miss at Yancy. The view of the woods out my dorm window, the Hudson River in the distance, the smell of pine trees. I'd miss Grover, who'd been a good friend, even if he was a little strange. I worried how he'd survive next year without me.

I'd miss Latin class, too-Mr. Brunner's crazy tournament days in his faith that I could do well.

As exam week got closer, Latin was the only test I studied for. I hadn't forgotten what Mr. Brunner told me about this subject being life-a-death for me. I wasn't sure why, but I'd started to believe him.

Another thing I'd miss was this comforting feeling I'd get during random periods of the day and sometimes at night. I always felt like they'd protect me.

Okay. Maybe I am going crazy...

The evening before my final, I got so frustrated I threw the _Cambridge Guide to Greek Mythology_ across my dorm room. Words had started swimming off the page, circling my head, the letters doing one-eighties as if they were riding skateboards. There was no way I was going to remember the difference between Chiron and Charon, or Polydictes and Polydeuces. And conjugating those Latin Verbs? Forget it.

 _"It's not that hard Perseus. Just concentrate and you'll get it soon. Don't give up! So pick up the book little f–"_

There was that voice again. It spoke to me every once in a while. Still as gentle and soothing as I first heard it. After many months of hearing it, I have stopped flinching when I hear it in my head. She always goes to call me 'little' something but she always cuts herself off and doesn't talk for a while...

And you heard right! _In my head._ I've finally figured out that that voice in the museum wasn't said out loud. She talked to me in my head! That's why it was all echo-ey.

 _"I don't think I can calm down and get this. Sorry!"_ I thought back to the imaginary voice.

I paced the room in frustration, feeling like ants were crawling around inside my shirt.

I remembered Mr. Brunner's serious expression, his thousand-year-old eyes. _I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson._

I took a deep breath. I picked up my mythology book.

 _"Good job, Perseus!"_ No matter how many times she'd call me that, it still made me flinch.

I'd never asked a teacher for help before. Maybe if I talked to Mr. Brunner, he could give me some pointers. At least I could apologize for the big fat 'F' I was about to score on his exam. I didn't want to leave Yancy Academy with him thinking I hadn't tried. I always try but it never seems to go to anything in the end, when it comes to school anyway.

I walked downstairs to the faculty offices. Most of them were dark and empty, but Mr. Brunner's door was ajar, light from his window stretching across the hallway floor.

I was three steps from the door handle when I heard voices inside the office. Mr. Brunner asked a question. A voice was definitely Grover's said ". . . worries about Percy, sir."

I froze. _"Don't you dare Perseus! Walk away!"_

I'm not usually an eavesdropper, _"Liar!"_ but I dare you to try not listening if you hear your best friend talking about you to an adult. _"I'll give you that... Go ahead!"_

I inched closer.

". . . alone this summer." Grover was saying. "I mean, a Kindly One in the _school!_ Now that we know for sure, and _they_ know too-"

"We would only make matters worse by rushing him." Mr. Brunner said. "We need the boy to mature more."

"But he may not have time. The summer solstice deadline-"

"Will have to be resolved without him, Grover. Let him enjoy his ignorance while he still can."

"Sir, he saw her . . ."

"His imagination," Mr. Brunner insisted. "The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince him of that."

"Sir, I . . . I can't fail in my duties again." Grover's voice was choked with emotion. "You know what that would mean."

"You haven't failed, Grover," Mr. Brunner said kindly. "I should have seen her for what she was. Now let's just worry about keeping Percy alive until next fall-"

The mythology book dropped out of my hand and hit the floor with a thud.

 _"You really shouldn't have done that!"_

 _"Shut up!"_

Mr. Brunner went silent.

My heart hammering, I picked up the book and backed down the hall.

 _"Good! You took the evidence!"_

A shadow slid across the lighted glass of Brunner's office door, the shadow of something much taller than my wheelchair-bound teacher, holding something that looked suspiciously like an archer's bow.

I opened the nearest door and slipped inside.

A few seconds later I heard a slow _clop-clop-clop_ , like muffled wood blocks, then a sound like an animal snuffling right outside my door. A large, dark shape paused in front of the glass, then moved on.

A bead of sweat tickled down my neck.

 _"Stay relaxed, he'll know you are there if you panic and cause a ruckus!"_

I breathed steadily, hoping it would calm my nerves.

Somewhere in the hallway, Mr. Brunner spoke. "Nothing," he murmured. "My nerves haven't been right since the winter solstice."

"Mine neither," Grover said. "But I could have sworn . . ."

"Go back to the dorm," Mr. Brunner told him. You've got a long day of exams tomorrow."

"Don't remind me."

Grover left the office in a downtrodden mood. I breathed a sound of relief. However another conversation started which I wasn't ready for...

 _"Hello Chi-Mr. Brunner..."_

"Hello dear." Mr. Bruner replied in a wise ancient voice.

She was back but she's there. She's talking to my Latin teacher. She _is_ real. I knew it!

Breaking the silence that occurred, she calmly replied, "You shouldn't worry about him you know. I'm watching over him."

"Why do you spend your time here? Your father may find out and get angry."

"You know as well as I that he'll never be mad at me. He loves me too much. And I watch over Perseus for him. For _all_ of them."

"He has caused a stirring in the peace that has rested over us in a while..." silence once again broke out... "When will you return, we could use you back with us."

"Soon I'm sure. I feel as if somethings gonna happen soon so be alert. I'll see you soon."

The lights went out in Mr. Brunner's office.

I waited in the dark for what seemed like forever.

Finally, I slipped out into the hallway and made my way back up to the dorm.

Grover was lying on his bed, studying his Latin exam notes like he'd been there all night.

"Hey," he said, bleary-eyed. "You going to get ready for this test?"

I didn't answer.

"You look awful." He frowned. "Is everything okay?"

"Just . . . tired."

I turned so he couldn't read my expression, and started getting ready for bed.

I didn't understand what I'd heard downstairs. I wanted to believe I'd imagined the whole thing.

But two things were clear: Grover and Mr. Brunner were talking about me behind my back. They thought I was in some kind of danger. The next thing was that Mr. Brunner knew the girl who knew me and she was watching over me. Even as we speak. Maybe that's three things...


	5. The Three Creepy Ladies Part II

The next afternoon, as I was leaving the three-hour Latin exam, my eyes swimming with all the Greek and Roman names I'd misspelled, Mr. Brunner called me back inside.

For a moment I was worried he'd found out about my eavesdropping the night before, but that didn't seem to be the problem.

"Percy," he said. "Don't be discouraged about leaving Yancy. It's . . . it's for the best."

His tone was kind, but the words still embarrassed me. Even though he was speaking quietly, the other kids finishing the test could hear. Nancy Bobofit smirked at me and made sarcastic kissing motions with her lips.

 _"I really wish I could punch her. She's so rude it's unimaginable!"_

I smirked a little before mumbling, "Okay, sir."

"I mean . . ." Mr. Brunner wheeled his chair back and forth, like he wasn't sure what to say. "This isn't the right place for you. It was only a matter of time."

My eyes stung.

 _"Don't cry. You are meant for so much more than Yancy Academy!"_

But that didn't help me since here was my favorite teacher, in front of the class, telling me I couldn't handle it. After saying he believed in me all year, now he was telling me I was destined to get kicked out.

"Right." I said, trembling.

"No, no," Mr. Brunner said. Oh, confound it all. What I'm trying to say . . . you're not normal, Percy. That's nothing to be-"

"Thanks," I blurted. "Thanks a lot, sir, for reminding me."

"Percy-"

But I was already gone. _"Being different isn't necessarily bad. You should embrace it..."_

 _"I don't see it. Leave me alone!"_ The voice withdrew itself and silence filled my head.

On the last day of the term, I shoved my clothes into my suitcase.

The other guys were joking around, talking about their vacation plans. One of them was going on a hiking trip to Switzerland. Another was cruising the Caribbean for a month. They were juvenile delinquents, like me, but they were rich juvenile delinquents. Their daddies were executives or ambassadors, or celebrities. I was a nobody, from a family of nobodies.

They asked me what I'd be doing this summer and I told them I was going back to the city.

What I didn't tell them was that I'd have to get a summer job walking dogs or selling magazine subscriptions, and spend my free time worrying about where I'd go to school in the fall.

 _"You shouldn't be ashamed of who you are."_

 _"I told you to leave me alone."_

"Oh," one of the guys said. "That's cool."

They went back to their conversation as if I'd never existed.

The only person I dreaded saying good-bye to was Grover, but as it turned out, I didn't have to. He'd booked a ticket to Manhattan on the same Greyhound as I had, so there we were, together again, heading into the city.

During the whole bus ride, Grover kept glancing nervously down the aisle, watching the other passengers. It occurred to me that he'd always acted nervous and fidgety when we left Yancy, as if he expected something bad to happen. Before, I'd always assumed he was worried about getting teased. But there was nobody to tease him on the Greyhound.

Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore.

 _"You should really learn the art of patience!"_ But I ignored the voice and said, "Looking for Kindly Ones?"

Grover nearly jumped out of his seat. "Wha- what do you mean?"

I confessed about eavesdropping on him and Mr. Brunner the night before the exam.

 _"You should never confess to doing something wrong!"_

Grover's eye twitched. "How much did you hear?"

"Oh . . . not much. What's the summer solstice deadline?"

 _"Trust me. You don't wanna know."_ The voice finally shut up with those words.

He winced. "Look, Percy . . . I was just worried for you, see? I mean, hallucinating about demon math teachers . . ."

"Grover-"

"And I was telling Mr. Brunner that maybe you were overstressed or something, because there was no such person as Mrs. Dodds, and . . ."

"Grover, you're a really, really bad liar."

His ears turned pink.

From his shirt pocket, he fished out a grubby business card. "Just take this, okay? In case you need me this summer."

The card was in fancy script, which was murder on my dyslexic eyes, but I finally made out something like:

 _ **Grover Underwood, Keeper**_

 _ **Half-Blood Hill**_

 _ **Long Island, New York**_

 _ **(800) 009-0009**_

"What's Half-"

"Don't say it aloud!" He yelped. "That's my, um . . . summer address."

My heart sank. Grover had a summer home. I'd never considered that his family might be as rich as the others at Yancy.

"Okay." I said glumly. "So, like, if I want to come visit your mansion."

He nodded. "Or . . . or if you need me."

"Why would I need you?"

It came out harsher than I meant it to.

Grover blushed right down to his Adam's apple. "Look Percy, the truth is, I-I kind of have to protect you."

I stared at him.

All year long, I'd gotten in fights, keeping bullies away from him. I'd lost sleep worrying that he'd get beaten up next year without _me._

And here he was acting like he was the one who defended me.

"Grover," I said, "What exactly are you protecting me from?"

There was a huge grinding noise under our feet. Black smoke poured from the dashboard and the whole bus filled with a smell like rotten eggs. The driver cursed and limped the Greyhound over to the side of the highway.

After a few minutes clanking around in the engine around in the engine compartment, the driver announced that we'd all have to get off. Grover and I filed outside with everybody else.

We were stretch of country road-no place you'd notice if you didn't break down there. On our side of the highway was nothing but maple trees and litter from passing cars. On the side, across four lanes of asphalt shimmering with afternoon heat, was an old-fashioned fruit stand.

The stuff on sale looked really good: heaping boxes of blood red cherries and apples, walnuts and apricots, jugs of cider in a claw-foot tub full of ice. There were no customers, just three old ladies sitting in rocking chairs in the shade of a maple tree, knitting the biggest pair of socks I'd ever seen.

I mean these socks were the size of sweaters, but they were clearly socks. The lady on the right knitted one of them. The lady on the left knitted the other. The lady in the middle held an enormous basket of electric-blue yarn.

All three women looked ancient, with pale faces wrinkled like fruit leather, silver hair tied back in white bandannas, bony arms sticking out of bleached cotton dresses. There was a girl there with them. From the distance I could see she had dark hair. Black or brown strands intertwined with one another and less loose in the wind. The sun glittered in her familiar pale skin. She had her head bowed and she sat on the floor in the center of the three ladies in a white chiffon dress.

The weirdest thing about the old ladies was that, they seemed to be looking right at me.

I looked over at Grover to say something about this and saw that the blood had drained from his face. His nose was twitching.

"Grover?" I said. "Hey, man-"

"Tell me they're not looking at you. They are, aren't they?"

"Yeah. Weird, huh? You think those socks would fit me?"

"Not funny, Percy. Not funny at all."

The girl reached out beside her and gave a huge pair of scissors-gold and silver, long-bladed, like shears to the middle one. I heard Grover catch his breath.

"We're getting on the bus," he told me. "Come on."

"What?" I said. "It's thousand degrees in there."

"Come on!" He pried open the door and climbed inside, but I stayed back.

Across the road, the old ladies were still watching me.

The middle one cut the yarn, and I swear I could hear that _snip_ across four-lanes of traffic. Her two friends balled up the electric-blue socks, leaving me wondering who they could possibly be for- Sasquatch or Godzilla. The girl grabbed the shears and followed after the other women. Never glancing at me once.

At the rear of the bus, the driver wrenched a big chunk of smoking metal out of the engine compartment. The bus shuddered, and the engine roared back to life.

The passengers cheered.

"Darn right!" yelled the driver. He slapped the bus with his hat. "Everybody back on board!"

Once we got going I started feeling feverish, as if I'd caught the flu.

Grover didn't look much better. He was shivering and his teeth were chattering.

"Grover?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you not telling me?"

He dabbed his forehead with his shirt sleeve. "Percy, what did you see back at the fruit stand?"

"You mean the old ladies? What is it about them, man? They're not like . . . Mrs. Dodds, are they?"

His expression was hard to read, but I got the feeling that the fruit-stand ladies were something much, much worse than Mrs. Dodds. He said, "Just tell me what you saw."

"The girl took out her scissors, and the middle one cut the yarn."

"Girl? What girl?"

"You know. The girl sat in front of them?"

"That's even worse."

He closed his eyes and made a gesture with his fingers that might've been crossing himself, but it wasn't. It was something else, something almost-older.

He said, "You saw her snip the cord."

"Yeah. So?" But even as I said it, I knew it was a big deal.

"This is not happening," Grover mumbled. He started chewing at his thumbs. "I don't want this to be like the last time."

"What last time?"

"Always sixth grade. They never get past sixth."

"Grover," I said, because he was really starting to scare me, "What are you talking about?"

"Let me walk you home from the bus station. Promise me."

This seemed like a strange request to me, but I promised he could.

"Is this like a superstition or something?" I asked.

No answer.

"Grover-that snipping of the yarn. Does that mean somebody is going to die?"

He looked at me mournfully, like he was already picking the kind of flowers I'd like best on my coffin.

 _"I'd never let that happen. Don't worry!"_


	6. Part Donkey?

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or plot. Only the twists I put into the plot and my character. All the rights to the main plot and characters belong to Rick Riordan.  
**

* * *

 _ **Grover Unexpectedly Loses His Pants**_

Confession time: I ditched Grover as soon as we got to the bus terminal.

I know, I know. It was rude. But Grover was freaking me out, looking at me like I was a dead man, muttering "Why does this always happen?" and "Why does it always have to he sixth grade?" Who wouldn't be freaked out with his constant ramblings? Wouldn't you be as well?

Whenever he got upset, Grover's bladder acted up, so I wasn't surprised when, as soon as we got off the bus, he made me promise to wait for him, then made a beeline for the restroom. Instead of waiting, I got my suitcase, slipped outside, and caught the first taxi uptown.

I know. You don't need to repeat yourself. It was a rude thing to do. I get it. But come on, he was being creepy! I can't help it…

"East One-hundred-and-fourth and First," I told the driver.

A word about my mother, before you meet her.

Her name is Sally Jackson and she's the best person in the world, " _I agree_ " which just proves my theory that the best people have the rottenest luck. " _That's true too!_ " She's back. That must have been the longest time she went without talking to me since she started couple of months ago.

Mum's parents died in a plane crash when she was five, and she was raised by an uncle who didn't care much about her. She wanted to be a novelist, so she spent high school working to save enough money for a college with a good creative-writing program. Then her uncle got cancer, and she had to quit school her senior year to take care of him. After he died, she was left with no money, no family, and no diploma.

The only good break she ever got was meeting my dad. Cute, I know.

" _Your father loved your mother very much…"_ That shocked me. That must have been one of the only things I knew about my dad.

I don't have any memories of him, just this sort of warm glow, maybe the barest trace of his smile. " _You look just like him._ " My mom doesn't like to talk about him because it makes her sad. She has no pictures. But apparently I look like him. Huh. How curious.

See, they weren't married. She told me he was rich and important, and their relationship was a secret. Then one day, he set sail across the Atlantic on some important journey, and he never came back.

Lost at sea, my mom told me. Not dead. Lost at sea. " _She's good…_ " the voice complimented.

She worked odd jobs, took night classes to get her high school diploma, and raised me on her own. She never com-plained or got mad. Not even once. But I knew I wasn't an easy kid. " _You never were but she loves you very much._ "

Finally, she married Gabe Ugliano, who was nice the first thirty seconds we knew him, then showed his true colours as a world-class jerk. When I was young, I nick-named him Smelly Gabe. I'm sorry, but it's the truth. The guy reeked like mouldy garlic pizza wrapped in gym shorts. " _You should hose him down, maybe it'll get rid of the smell! Maybe it'll improve his attitude, that insignificant mort—_ " She cut herself off again. I hate it when she does that.

Between the two of us, we made my mom's life pretty hard. The way Smelly Gabe treated her, the way he and I got along… well, when I came home is a good example.

I walked into our little apartment, hoping my mom would be home from work. Instead, Smelly Gabe was in the living room, playing poker with his buddies. The television blared ESPN. Chips and beer cans were strewn all over the carpet.

Hardly looking up, he said around his cigar, "So, you're home."

" _How rude! I hate him…" "Me too!"_

"Where's my mom?"

"Working," he said. "You got any cash?"

That was it. No _Welcome back. Good to see you. How has your life been the last six months?_

Gabe had put on weight. He looked like a tuskless walrus in thrift-store clothes. He had about three hairs on his head, all combed over his bald scalp, as if that made him handsome or something.

He managed the Electronics Mega-Mart in Queens, but he stayed home most of the time. I don't know why he hadn't been fired long before. He just kept on collecting paycheques, spending the money on cigars that made me nauseous, and on beer, of course. Always beer. Whenever I was home, he expected me to provide his gambling funds. He called that our "guy secret." Meaning, if I told my mom, he would punch my lights out.

He tried to a couple of times when I was little but ever since my 7th birthday when he went to punch me, something happened to him which terrified him. I don't know what it was but it changed him and made my life so much easier.

"I don't have any cash," I told him. He raised a greasy eyebrow. " _This man disgusts me"_

Gabe could sniff out money like a bloodhound, which was surprising, since his own smell should've covered up everything else. _"He's a mutt. The worst kind of human being crawling around this earth."_

"You took a taxi from the bus station," he said. "Probably paid with a twenty. Got six, seven bucks in change. Somebody expects to live under this roof, he ought to carry his own weight. Am I right, Eddie?"

Eddie, the superintendent of the apartment building, looked at me with a twinge of sympathy. "Come on, Gabe," he said. "The kid just got here." _"At least one of these horrid men has a heart."_

"Am I _right?_ " Gabe repeated.

Eddie scowled into his bowl of pretzels. The other two guys passed gas in harmony. _"I retract my statement little f—"_

"Fine," I said. I dug a wad of dollars out of my pocket and threw the money on the table. "I hope you lose." _"I'll make sure he does!"_

"Your report card came, brain boy!" he shouted after me. "I wouldn't act so snooty!"

I slammed the door to my room, which really wasn't my room. During school months, it was Gabe's "study." He didn't study anything in there except old car magazines, but he loved shoving my stuff in the closet, leaving his muddy boots on my windowsill, and doing his best to make the place smell like his nasty cologne and cigars and stale beer.

I dropped my suitcase on the bed. Home sweet home. _"If you're calling this your home, you have another thing coming Perseus."_

Gabe's smell was almost worse than the nightmares about Mrs. Dodds, or the sound of that old fruit lady's shears snipping the yarn.

But as soon as I thought that, my legs felt weak. I remembered Grover's look of panic-how he'd made me promise I wouldn't go home without him. A sudden chill rolled through me. I felt like someone- something-was looking for me right now, maybe pounding its way up the stairs, growing long, horrible talons.

Then I heard my mom's voice. "Percy?"

She opened the bedroom door, and my fears melted.

My mother can make me feel good just by walking into the room. Her eyes sparkle and change colour in the light. Her smile is as warm as a quilt. She's got a few grey streaks mixed in with her long brown hair, but I never think of her as old. When she looks at me, it's like she's seeing all the good things about me, none of the bad. I've never heard her raise her voice or say an unkind word to anyone, not even me or Gabe. _"That's a skill sweetheart."_

"Oh, Percy." She hugged me tight. "I can't believe it. You've grown since Christmas!"

Her red-white-and-blue Sweet on America uniform smelled like the best things in the world: chocolate, liquorice, and all the other stuff she sold at the candy shop in Grand Central. She'd brought me a huge bag of "free samples," the way she always did when I came home.

We sat together on the edge of the bed. While I attacked the blueberry sour strings, she ran her hand through my hair and demanded to know everything I hadn't put in my letters. _"You're in good hands right now so I'll be back soon…"_ She didn't mention anything about my getting expelled. She didn't seem to care about that. But was I okay? Was her little boy doing all right?

I told her she was smothering me, and to lay off and all that, but secretly, I was really, really glad to see her.

From the other room, Gabe yelled, "Hey, Sally-how about some bean dip, huh?"

I gritted my teeth.

My mom is the nicest lady in the world. She should've been married to a millionaire, not to some jerk like Gabe. Then again, even being a millionaire, billionaire or trillionaire will never be enough for _my_ mother. She deserves the best. Even the best won't be good enough for her.

For her sake, I tried to sound upbeat about my last days at Yancy Academy. I told her I wasn't too down about the expulsion. I'd lasted almost the whole year this time. I'd made some new friends. I'd done pretty well in Latin. And honestly, the fights hadn't been as bad as the headmaster said. I liked Yancy Academy. I really did. I put such a good spin on the year, I almost convinced myself. I started choking up, thinking about Grover and Mr. Brunner. If I'm not at Yancy anymore, will she be still watching over me? I'll miss her protecting me. Will she leave? Even Nancy Bobofit suddenly didn't seem so bad.

Until that trip to the museum…

Everything changed after that day.

"What?" my mom asked. Her eyes tugged at my conscience, trying to pull out the secrets. "Did something scare you?"

"No, Mom."

I felt bad lying. I wanted to tell her about Mrs. Dodds and the three old ladies with the yarn, but I thought it would sound stupid.

 _"You shouldn't lie, especially to your mother."_

 _"I thought you said you were leaving."_

 _"Just because I left, doesn't mean I'm not keeping an eye on you. Tell her the truth!"_

Ignoring her, I looked at my mum and she pursed her lips. She knew I was holding back, but she didn't push me.

"I have a surprise for you," she said. "We're going to the beach."

My eyes widened. "Montauk?"

"Three nights-same cabin."

"When?"

She smiled. "As soon as I get changed."

I couldn't believe it. My mom and I hadn't been to Montauk the last two summers, because Gabe said there wasn't enough money. _"You as well as I know that he lied all those times. That repulsive pig! Denying a woman her rights!"_

Gabe appeared in the doorway and growled, "Bean dip, Sally? Didn't you hear me?"

I wanted to punch him, _"Me too kiddo!"_ but I met my mom's eyes and I understood she was offering me a deal: be nice to Gabe for a little while. Just until she was ready to leave for Montauk. Then we would get out of here.

"I was on my way, honey," she told Gabe. "We were just talking about the trip."

Gabe's eyes got small. "The trip? You mean you were serious about that?"

"I knew it," I muttered. "He won't let us go."

"Of course he will," my mom said evenly. "Your step-father is just worried about money. That's all. Besides," she added, "Gabriel won't have to settle for bean dip. I'll make him enough seven-layer dip for the whole weekend. Guacamole. Sour cream. The works."

Gabe softened a bit. "So this money for your trip ... it comes out of your clothes budget, right?"

"Yes, honey," my mother said.

"And you won't take my car anywhere but there and back."

"We'll be very careful."

Gabe scratched his double chin. "Maybe if you hurry with that seven-layer dip ... And maybe if the kid apologises for interrupting my poker game."

Maybe if I kick you in your soft spot, I thought. And make you sing soprano for a week.

 _"Do it Percy. You won't regret it! Actually you won't be able to go to Montauk if you do do it so ignore me and don't listen to me."_

But my mom's eyes warned me not to make him mad.

Why did she put up with this guy? I wanted to scream. Why did she care what he thought?

 _"She did it for you."_

 _"What?"_

 _"…"_


	7. Part Donkey? Part II

"I'm sorry," I muttered. "I'm really sorry I interrupted your incredibly important poker game. Please go back to it right now."

Gabe's eyes narrowed. His tiny brain was probably trying to detect sarcasm in my statement.

"Yeah, whatever," he decided.

He went back to his game. _"Sot." "What does that mean?"_ and she ignored my question.

"Thank you, Percy," my mom said. "Once we get to Montauk, we'll talk more about... whatever you've forgot-ten to tell me, okay?"

For a moment, I thought I saw anxiety in her eyes-the same fear I'd seen in Grover during the bus ride-as if my mom too felt an odd chill in the air.

But then her smile returned, and I figured I must have been mistaken. She ruffled my hair and went to make Gabe his seven-layer dip.

An hour later we were ready to leave.

Finally.

We can finally be away from that… that _thing…_

Gabe took a break from his poker game long enough to watch me lug my mom's bags to the car. _"At least that thing has_ ** _some_** _respect for women!"_ He kept griping and groaning about losing her cooking-and more important, his '78 Camaro-for the whole weekend.

"Not a scratch on this car, brain boy," he warned me as I loaded the last bag. "Not one little scratch."

Like I'd be the one driving. I was twelve. But that didn't matter to Gabe. If a seagull so much as pooped on his paint job, he'd find a way to blame me.

Watching him lumber back toward the apartment building, I got so mad I did something I can't explain. As Gabe reached the doorway, I made the hand gesture I'd seen Grover make on the bus, a sort of warding-off-evil gesture, a clawed hand over my heart, then a shoving movement toward Gabe. The screen door slammed shut so hard it whacked him in the butt and sent him flying up the stair-case as if he'd been shot from a cannon. Maybe it was just the wind, or some freak accident with the hinges, but I didn't stay long enough to find out.

I got in the Camaro and told my mom to step on it.

 _"You as well as I know that that was no accident. You are_ ** _powerful_** _and you will_ ** _fight_** _when the time comes."_

Our rental cabin was on the south shore, way out at the tip of Long Island. It was a little pastel box with faded curtains, half sunken into the dunes. There was always sand in the sheets and spiders in the cabinets, and most of the time the sea was too cold to swim in.

I loved the place. _"It sounds beautiful."_

We'd been going there since I was a baby. My mom had been going even longer. She never exactly said, but I knew why the beach was special to her. It was the place where she'd met my dad.

As we got closer to Montauk, she seemed to grow younger, years of worry and work disappearing from her face. Her eyes turned the colour of the sea.

We got there at sunset, opened all the cabin's windows, and went through our usual cleaning routine. We walked on the beach, fed blue corn chips to the seagulls, and munched on blue jelly beans, blue saltwater taffy, and all the other free samples my mom had brought from work.

I guess I should explain the blue food. _"I've always been curious why you guys did this so please do explain…"_

See, Gabe had once told my mom there was no such thing. They had this fight, which seemed like a really small thing at the time. But ever since, my mom went out of her way to eat blue. She baked blue birthday cakes. She mixed blueberry smoothies. She bought blue-corn tortilla chips and brought home blue candy from the shop. This-along with keeping her maiden name, Jackson, rather than calling herself Mrs. Ugliano _"Thank the gods that she didn't take his hideous name, the fact that the word_ ugly _must have been one of the reasons why she didn't take his name. Sally Ugliano. Repulsive. Sally Jackson is so much better! "_ \- was proof that she wasn't totally suckered by Gabe. She did have a rebellious streak, like me. _"You don't have a streak Perseus, you are rebellious with a streak of obedience."_

When it got dark, we made a fire. We roasted hot dogs and marshmallows. _"I've never done that before." "Why don't you come out and join us." "I can't, I'm sorry." and the voice retreated to the back of my head._ Mom told me stories about when she was a kid, back before her parents died in the plane crash. She told me about the books she wanted to write someday, when she had enough money to quit the candy shop.

Eventually, I got up the nerve to ask about what was always on my mind whenever we came to Montauk-my father. Mom's eyes went all misty. _"Don't make her cry Perseus. You'll find out the truth soon."_ I figured she would tell me the same things she always did, but I never got tired of hearing them.

"He was kind, Percy," she said. "Tall, handsome, and powerful. But gentle, too. You have his black hair, you know, and his green eyes."

 _"I told you that you looked like him. The similarities are uncanny especially for me!"_

Mom fished a blue jelly bean out of her candy bag. "I wish he could see you, Percy. He would be so proud."

I wondered how she could say that. What was so great about me? A dyslexic, hyperactive boy with a D+ report card, kicked out of school for the sixth time in six years. _"Your mother is proud of you._ ** _I_** _am proud of you. You should be proud of yourselves. Remember this and you'll go far: '_ Nobody can make you feel inferior without your consent.' _Eleanor Roosevelt said that! Always be proud of who you are,_ ** _never_** _forget that…"_

I was not a man of many words so I sincerely replied, _"Thank you."_ hoping she'd understand how thankful I was.

"How old was I?" I asked. "I mean ... when he left?"

She watched the flames. "He was only with me for one summer, Percy. Right here at this beach. This cabin."

"But... he knew me as a baby."

"No, honey. He knew I was expecting a baby, but he never saw you. He had to leave before you were born."

I tried to square that with the fact that I seemed to remember… something about my father. A warm glow. A smile.

I had always assumed he knew me as a baby. My mom had never said it outright, but still, I'd felt it must be true. Now, to be told that he'd never even seen me …

I felt angry at my father. Maybe it was stupid, but I resented him for going on that ocean voyage, for not having the guts to marry my mom. He'd left us, and now we were stuck with Smelly Gabe.

"Are you going to send me away again?" I asked her. "To another boarding school?"

She pulled a marshmallow from the fire.

"I don't know, honey." Her voice was heavy. "I think ... I think we'll have to do something."

"Because you don't want me around?" I regretted the words as soon as they were out. _"She'll always want you beside her, it's one of her fatal flaws. She's doing this for_ ** _you_** _, she wants to protect_ ** _you_** _. So try not to make her cry…"_

My mom's eyes welled with tears. She took my hand, squeezed it tight. "Oh, Percy, no. I-I have to, honey. For your own good. I have to send you away."

Her words reminded me of what Mr. Brunner had said-that it was best for me to leave Yancy.

"Because I'm not normal," I said.

"You say that as if it's a bad thing, Percy. But you don't realise how important you are. I thought Yancy Academy would be far enough away. I thought you'd finally be safe."

"Safe from what?" _"From every single thing every mother hopes to hide from her child. The world. Everything in the world can hurt you. Everything in the world is a threat to_ ** _you_** _and she wants to keep you from it."_

She met my eyes, and a flood of memories came back to me-all the weird, scary things that had ever happened to me, some of which I'd tried to forget.

During third grade, a man in a black trench coat had stalked me on the playground. When the teachers threatened to call the police, he went away growling, but no one believed me when I told them that under his broad-brimmed hat, the man only had one eye, right in the middle of his head.

Before that-a really early memory. I was in preschool, and a teacher accidentally put me down for a nap in a cot that a snake had slithered into. My mom screamed when she came to pick me up and found me playing with a limp, scaly rope I'd somehow managed to strangle to death with my meaty toddler hands.

After all these events, there was this time in fifth grade when I went on a trip to a farm some way away from New York and there was this lion staring at me in the fields. No one but mum believed that it was there. I didn't believe it myself until a couple of days ago because when I saw the beast when I was little. I went to tell the teacher so all of my classmates would be safe but when I turned away, I heard a struggle and a slight squeal so I turned towards the golden fleeced lion to find nothing there and specs of gold dust flying towards me. That dust, now that I remember, was exactly the same as the one Mrs. Dodds ended up as.

It wasn't the last time that happened, now that I think about it…

In every single school, something creepy had happened, something unsafe, and I was forced to move.

I knew I should tell my mom about the old ladies at the fruit stand, and Mrs. Dodds at the art museum, about my weird hallucination that I had sliced my math teacher into dust with a sword. But I couldn't make myself tell her. I had a strange feeling the news would end our trip to Montauk, and I didn't want that. _"I'm telling you Perseus, you_ ** _must_** _tell her. Your lives depend on it!"_ I ignored her, hoping she'd go away.

"I've tried to keep you as close to me as I could," my mom said. "They told me that was a mistake. But there's only one other option, Percy - the place your father wanted to send you. And I just... I just can't stand to do it."

"My father wanted me to go to a special school?"

"Not a school," she said softly. "A summer camp."

 _"The best place in the world!" "You know of it?"_ I quickly questioned. _"I do, but it is not of my will that will reveal to you the secrets of camp. It is not_ ** _my_** _destiny but somebody else's."_

My head was spinning. Why would my dad - who hadn't even stayed around long enough to see me born - talk to my mom about a summer camp? And if it was so important, why hadn't she ever mentioned it before? And how does _she_ know of this place? What has she got to do with all this mess that my life has spiralled into?

"I'm sorry, Percy," she said, seeing the look in my eyes. "But I can't talk about it. I - I couldn't send you to that place. It might mean saying good-bye to you for good."

"For good? But if it's only a summer camp …"

She turned toward the fire, and I knew from her expression that if I asked her any more questions she would start to cry.

 _"Don't make her cry, already failed at that…"_

That night I had a vivid dream.

It was storming on the beach, and two beautiful animals, a white horse and a golden eagle, were trying to kill each other at the edge of the surf. There was a a silver beauty, a hybrid between a unicorn and pegasus: _A Mystic,_ a voice whispered to me, trying to get in between them to stem the ensuing fight. The eagle swooped down and slashed the horse's muzzle with its huge talons. The Mystic pushed the eagle back and seemed to give it a disappointed glare. The horse reared up and accidentally kicked at the Mystic's wings, causing her to fall to the ground. This angered both parties, seeming to blame the other for the fall of their neutral part. As they fought, the ground rumbled, and a monstrous voice chuck-led somewhere beneath the earth, goading the animals to fight harder. Cracks began to circle the fallen Mystic. The ground was breaking underneath her.

I ran toward them, knowing I had to stop them from killing each other and hoping I'd reach the fallen Mystic before she fell, but I was running in slow motion. I knew I would be too late. I saw the eagle dive down, its beak aimed at the horse's wide eyes, the ground collapsed from underneath the beautiful creature and I screamed, _No!_

I woke with a start.

Outside, it really was storming, the kind of storm that cracks trees and blows down houses. There was no horse, eagle or mythical Mystic on the beach, just lightning making false daylight, and twenty-foot waves pounding into the dunes like artillery.

With the next thunderclap, my mom woke. She sat up, eyes wide, and said, "Hurricane." How did she know that when she just woke up? It's as if she's connected to the weather…

I knew that was crazy. Both thoughts were. Long Island never sees hurricanes this early in the summer. But the ocean seemed to have forgotten. Over the roar of the wind, I heard a distant bellow, an angry, tortured sound that made my hair stand on end.

Then a much closer noise, like mallets in the sand. A desperate voice; someone yelling, pounding on our cabin door.

My mother sprang out of bed in her nightgown and threw open the lock.

Grover stood framed in the doorway against a backdrop of pouring rain. But he wasn't... he wasn't exactly Grover.

 _"You need to wake up Perseus._ ** _Wake UP!_** _You are in danger now. I cannot help you right now because I am trying to fend off the rest so you must hurry. Quickly. Escape. Run._ ** _GO!_** _"_

"Searching all night," he gasped. "What were you thinking?"

My mother looked at me in terror - not scared of Grover, but of why he'd come.

"Percy," she said, shouting to be heard over the rain. "What happened at school? What didn't you tell me?"

I was frozen, looking at Grover. I couldn't understand what I was seeing.

 _"O Zeu kai alloi theoi!"_ he yelled. "It's right behind me! Didn't you _tell_ her?"

I was too shocked to register that he'd just cursed in Ancient Greek, and I'd understood him perfectly. I was too shocked to wonder how Grover had gotten here by himself in the middle of the night. Because Grover didn't have his pants on - and where his legs should be… where his legs should be…

My mom looked at me sternly and talked in a tone she'd never used before: " _Percy._ Tell me _now!_ "

 _"It's time. Tell her the truth. The_ ** _whole_** _truth."_

I stammered something about the old ladies at the fruit stand, and Mrs. Dodds, and my mom stared at me, her face deathly pale in the flashes of lightning.

She grabbed her purse, tossed me my rain jacket, and said, "Get to the car. Both of you. _Go!_ "

Grover ran for the Camaro-but he wasn't running, exactly. He was trotting, shaking his shaggy hindquarters, and suddenly his story about a muscular disorder in his legs made sense to me. I understood how he could run so fast and still limp when he walked.

Because where his feet should be, there were no feet. There were cloven hooves.

 _"And that's not the worse thing in our world. Good luck Perseus Jackson. You are going to need it in your future. I'll be seeing you soon."_


	8. The Large Bull

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or plot. Only the twists I put into the plot and my character. All the rights to the main plot and characters belong to Rick Riordan.  
**

* * *

 ** _My Mother Teaches Me Bullfighting_**

We tore through the night along dark country roads. Wind slammed against the Camaro. Rain lashed the wind-shield. I didn't know how my mom could see anything, but she kept her foot on the gas.

 _"That's dangerous. I know a guy who always drives like that so now he's always in hospital."_

 _"I thought you were busy. What's happening?"_

 _"Let your mother explain it to you sweetheart. And I_ ** _am_** _busy. You don't see anymore of those things coming after you, do yo– Ahhh. That was close!"_

 _"What's going on?"_

 _"Shhhhhh. I'm busy helping you!"_

I didn't know how to reply to that so I shut up.

Every time there was a flash of lightning, I looked at Grover sitting next to me in the backseat and I wondered if I'd gone insane, or if he was wearing some kind of shag-carpet pants. But, no, the smell was one I remembered from kindergarten field trips to the petting zoo- lanolin, like from wool. The smell of a wet barnyard animal.

All I could think to say was, "So, you and my mom... know each other?"

Graver's eyes flitted to the rearview mirror, though there were no cars behind us. "Not exactly," he said. "I mean, we've never met in person. But she knew I was watching you."

"Watching me?"

"Keeping tabs on you. Making sure you were okay. But I wasn't faking being your friend," he added hastily. "I _am_ your friend."

 _"Trust him. He's there to help you!"_

"Urn ... what _are_ you, exactly?"

"That doesn't matter right now."

"It doesn't matter? From the waist down, my best friend is a donkey-"

Grover let out a sharp, throaty " _Blaa-ha-ha!_ "

I'd heard him make that sound before, but I'd always assumed it was a nervous laugh. Now I realised it was more of an irritated bleat.

"Goat!" he cried. " _Honestly Percy! Can't you tell?_ " her sarcastic voice filtered into my muddled brain...

"What?" I answered both of them.

"I'm a _goat_ from the waist down."

"You just said it didn't matter." " _That's true Percy but it's still going to offend people like him, satyrs. Be careful when you arrive at camp. Satyrs may be nature spirits but they are easily offended when you call them half-donkey instead of half-goat." "Satyrs are real?" "Obviously Perseus, otherwise Grover wouldn't be there beside you now would he?"_

"Blaa-ha-ha! There are satyrs who would trample you underhoof for such an insult!" So I've heard.

"Whoa. Wait. Satyrs. You mean like ... Mr. Brunner's myths?" I felt like I should say this since he doesn't know I knew about what he was.

"Were those old ladies at the fruit stand a myth, Percy? Was Mrs. Dodds a myth?"

"So you _admit_ there was a Mrs. Dodds!"

"Of course."

"Then why-"

"The less you knew, the fewer monsters you'd attract," Grover said, like that should be perfectly obvious. "We put Mist over the humans' eyes. We hoped you'd think the Kindly One was a hallucination. But it was no good. You started to realize who you are."

"Who I-wait a minute, what do you mean?"

The weird bellowing noise rose up again somewhere behind us, closer than before. Whatever was chasing us was still on our trail.

"Percy," my mom said, "there's too much to explain and not enough time. We have to get you to safety."

 _"Ask her about me! She knows who I am. I can't reveal who I am. I swore an oath. But_ ** _she_** _didn't!"_

"Safety from what? Who's after me? And who is that girl that's always around watching over me."

Now it was Grover's turn to be confused. "What girl? There was never a girl Percy. And, nobody much," Grover said, obviously still miffed about the donkey comment and confused about the girl that he hadn't seen. "Just the Lord of the Dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions."

"Grover!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Jackson. Could you drive faster, please?"

I tried to wrap my mind around what was happening, but I couldn't do it. I knew this wasn't a dream. I had no imagination. I could never dream up something this weird. My mom made a hard left. We swerved onto a narrower road, racing past darkened farmhouses and wooded hills and **PICK YOUR OWN STRAWBERRIES** signs on white picket fences.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"The summer camp I told you about." My mother's voice was tight; she was trying for my sake not to be scared. "The place your father wanted to send you."

"The place you didn't want me to go."

"Please, dear," my mother begged. "This is hard enough. Try to understand. You're in danger."

"Because some old ladies cut yarn."

"Those weren't old ladies," Grover said. "Those were the Fates. Do you know what it means - the fact they appeared in front of you? They only do that when you're about to... when someone's about to die."

"Whoa. You said _'you.'"_

"No I didn't. I said _'someone.'"_

"You meant ' _you._ ' As in me."

"I meant you, like ' _someone_.' Not you, _you_."

"Boys!" my mom said. " _Thank God she shut you guys up. That argument was pointless."_

She pulled the wheel hard to the right, and I got a glimpse of a figure she'd swerved to avoid-a dark flutter-ing shape now lost behind us in the storm.

"What was that? And neither of you answered me. Who is that girl? Who is she to me?" I asked.

"We're almost there," my mother said, ignoring my questions . "Another mile. Please. Please. Please."

I didn't know where _there_ was, but I found myself leaning forward in the car, anticipating, wanting us to arrive.

" _You'll love it. It's the best place for you. Camp Half-Blo-_ " Something seemed to cut her connection to me and it was silent.

Outside, nothing but rain and darkness-the kind of empty countryside you get way out on the tip of Long Island. I thought about Mrs. Dodds and the moment when she'd changed into the thing with pointed teeth and leathery wings. My limbs went numb from delayed shock. She really _hadn't_ been human. She'd meant to kill me.

Am I gonna die soon? I put mum and Grover in danger. It's all my fault. It's my fault.

Then I thought about Mr. Brunner ... and the sword he had thrown me. Before I could ask Grover about that, the hair rose on the back of my neck. There was a blinding flash, a jaw-rattling _boom!,_  
 _*_ ** _"NO!"_** * she screamed, and our car exploded.

I remember feeling weightless, like I was being crushed, fried, and hosed down all at the same time.

I peeled my forehead off the back of the driver's seat and said, "Ow." " _That's gotta hurt! Are you okay? Do you feel injured?_ "

"Percy!" my mom shouted.

"I'm okay..." I verbally and mentally answered both of them at the same time.

I tried to shake off the daze. I wasn't dead. The car hadn't really exploded. We'd swerved into a ditch. Our driver's-side doors were wedged in the mud. The roof had cracked open like an eggshell and rain was pouring in.

Lightning. That was the only explanation. " _I'm gonna kill him. That a-" "Who? Who did this to us?"_ There was no reply. We'd been blasted right off the road. Next to me in the backseat was a big motionless lump. "Grover!"

He was slumped over, blood trickling from the side of his mouth. I shook his furry hip, thinking, No! Even if you are half barnyard animal, you're my best friend and I don't want you to die!

Then he groaned "Food," and I knew there was hope.

"Percy," my mother said, "we have to ..." Her voice faltered.

I looked back. In a flash of lightning, through the mud-spattered rear windshield, I saw a figure lumbering toward us on the shoulder of the road. The sight of it made my skin crawl. It was a dark silhouette of a huge guy, like a football player. He seemed to be holding a blanket over his head. His top half was bulky and fuzzy. His upraised hands made it look like he had horns.

I swallowed hard. "Who is-"

"Percy," my mother said, deadly serious. "Get out of the car."

 _"Do as she says and leave quickly. if you don't, you risk all your lives. It's after you first and foremost. Leave._ ** _NOW!_** _"_

My mother threw herself against the driver's-side door. It was jammed shut in the mud. I tried mine. Stuck too. " _Look up!_ " I looked up desperately at the hole in the roof. It might've been an exit, but the edges were sizzling and smoking.

"Climb out the passenger's side!" my mother told me. "Percy-you have to run. Do you see that big tree?"

" _What tree?" "Keep looking up. The pine tree is the tree she is talking about and one you must look for. You need more light..."_ she trailed of in a whisper. Then...

Another flash of lightning, and through the smoking hole in the roof I saw the tree she meant: a huge, White House Christmas tree-sized pine at the crest of the nearest hill.

Her voice whispered in my ear as my mother told me what to do next,  
" _That's the property line_." she said.  
"That's the property line," my mom said.  
" _Get over that hill and you'll see a big farmhouse down in the valley. Run and don't look back. Yell for help. Don't stop until you reach the door._ "  
"Get over that hill and you'll see a big farmhouse down in the valley. Run and don't look back. Yell for help. Don't stop until you reach the door." they concluded together.

"Mom, you're coming too."

Her face was pale, her eyes as sad as when she looked at the ocean.

"No!" I shouted. "You _are_ coming with me. Help me carry Grover."

"Food!" Grover moaned, a little louder.

 _"I'll try and get there as fast as I can but there are so many others after you. I'm sorry if I can't help!"_

The man with the blanket on his head kept coming toward us, making his grunting, snorting noises. As he got closer, I realised he _couldn't_ be holding a blanket over his head, because his hands-huge meaty hands-were swinging at his sides. There was no blanket. Meaning the bulky, fuzzy mass that was too big to be his head ... was his head. And the points that looked like horns ... " _Even after all these years, he's still ugly as ever!_ " _"Years? How do you know this guy? When did guys meet?" "A long time ago Perseus, it has been many years since I last saw it!"_

"He doesn't want _us_ ," my mother told me. "He wants you. Besides, I can't cross the property line."

"But..." _"She's mortal. She cannot cross the property line without permission. I'm sorry but it_ ** _is_** _one of the camp protections. It's to prevent outsiders fr— ahh!"_


	9. The Large Bull Part II

There was a flash of light in the distance. And silence seemed to encompass the land. Even the beast stopped what he was doing at looked towards the light. Then a golden light seemed to descend from the Heavens towards the middle of the woods. My mother stared on in confusion. The golden light rose up again but this time a white glow seemed to be intertwined with it. My mother shook her head and carried on talking as if nothing had happened.

"We don't have time, Percy. Go. _Please_."

I got mad, then-mad at my mother, at Grover the goat, at the thing with horns that was lumbering toward us slowly and deliberately like, like a bull and at this girl who always seems to want to protect me but not give enough information so I can protect myself.

I climbed across Grover and pushed the door open into the rain. "We're going together. Come on, Mom."

"I told you-"

"Mom! I am not leaving you. Help me with Grover."

I didn't wait for her answer. I scrambled outside, dragging Grover from the car. He was surprisingly light, but I couldn't have carried him very far if my mom hadn't come to my aid.

Together, we draped Grover's arms over our shoulders and started stumbling uphill through wet waist-high grass.

Glancing back, I got my first clear look at the monster. He was seven feet tall, easy, his arms and legs like something from the cover of *Muscle Man* magazine-bulging biceps and triceps and a bunch of other 'ceps, all stuffed like baseballs under vein-webbed skin. He wore no clothes except under-wear-I mean, bright white Fruit of the Looms-which would've looked funny, except that the top half of his body was so scary. Coarse brown hair started at about his belly button and got thicker as it reached his shoulders.

His neck was a mass of muscle and fur leading up to his enormous head, which had a snout as long as my arm, snotty nostrils with a gleaming brass ring, cruel black eyes, and horns-enormous black-and- white horns with points you just couldn't get from an electric sharpener.

I recognised the monster, all right. He had been in one of the first stories Mr. Brunner told us. But he couldn't be real.

I blinked the rain out of my eyes. "That's-"

"Pasiphae's son," my mother said. "I wish I'd known how badly they want to kill you." That's something _she_ would say. Where is she? Why isn't she coming. Is she hurt?

I shook those thoughts away. She can't be. I was just talking to her. She was just distracted! I carried on talking to my mum...

"But he's the Min-"

"Don't say his name," she warned. "Names have power."

The pine tree was still way too far - a hundred yards uphill at least. Thank the lord that I'm not unfit or I wouldn't make it up that hill!

I glanced behind me again.

The bull-man hunched over our car, looking in the windows or not looking, exactly. More like snuffling, nuzzling. I wasn't sure why he bothered, since we were only about fifty feet away.

"Food?" Grover moaned. " _That silly goat. Make him silent or he'll find you all!_ " would be something she'd say to lighten the mood. I actually thought it was her but I then I realised it was just my mind playing tricks on me. It's like the beginning of the year all over again!

"Shhh," I told him. "Mom, what's he doing? Doesn't he see us?"

"His sight and hearing are terrible," she said. "He goes by smell. But he'll figure out where we are soon enough."

As if on cue, the bull-man bellowed in rage. He picked up Gabe's Camaro by the torn roof, the chassis creaking and groaning. He raised the car over his head and threw it down the road. It slammed into the wet asphalt and skidded in a shower of sparks for about half a mile before coming to a stop. The gas tank exploded.

 _Not a scratch,_ I remembered Gabe saying.

 ** _Oops._**

She would have laughed with me. Where is she?

"Percy," my mom said. "When he sees us, he'll charge. Wait until the last second, then jump out of the way- directly sideways. He can't change directions very well once he's charging. Do you understand?"

"How do you know all this?

"I've been worried about an attack for a long time. I should have expected this. I was selfish, keeping you near me." She'd whisper reassurances in my ear about how my mother wasn't selfish.

"Keeping me near you? But-"

Another bellow of rage, and the bull-man started tromping uphill.

He'd smelled us. She'd encourage me to run. I'm lost after months with her. She's gone! Where _is_ she?

The pine tree was only a few more yards, but the hill was getting steeper and slicker, and Grover wasn't getting any lighter.

The bull-man closed in. Another few seconds and he'd be on top of us.

My mother must've been exhausted, but she shouldered Grover. "Go, Percy! Separate! Remember what I said." She'd tell how to act. She'd tell me what to do. Why did she abandon me?

Hah. She would admonish me right now for thinking such thoughts. The humor seeped out of me when the realisation that she could be hurt out there, all alone, hit me like the torrent of rain surrounding us.

* * *

 **AN:** All this bit in bold belongs to Rick Riordan. I didn't know what else to put so I just typed up the initial fight. You can skip to the bit towards the end that isn't in bold where it's my stuff again if you like...

* * *

 **I didn't want to split up, but I had the feeling she was right-it was our only chance. I sprinted to the left, turned, and saw the creature bearing down on me. His black eyes glowed with hate. He reeked like rotten meat.**

 **He lowered his head and charged, those razor-sharp horns aimed straight at my chest.**

 **The fear in my stomach made me want to bolt, but that wouldn't work. I could never outrun this thing. So I held my ground, and at the last moment, I jumped to the side.**

 **The bull-man stormed past like a freight train, then bel-lowed with frustration and turned, but not toward me this time, toward my mother, who was setting Grover down in the grass.**

 **We'd reached the crest of the hill. Down the other side I could see a valley, just as my mother had said, and the lights of a farmhouse glowing yellow through the rain. But that was half a mile away. We'd never make it.**

 **The bull-man grunted, pawing the ground. He kept eyeing my mother, who was now retreating slowly downhill, back toward the road, trying to lead the monster away from Grover.**

 **"Run, Percy!" she told me. "I can't go any farther. Run!"**

 **But I just stood there, frozen in fear, as the monster charged her. She tried to sidestep, as she'd told me to do, but the monster had learned his lesson. His hand shot out and grabbed her by the neck as she tried to get away. He lifted her as she struggled, kicking and pummeling the air.**

 **"Mom!"**

 **She caught my eyes, managed to choke out one last word: "Go!"**

 **Then, with an angry roar, the monster closed his fists around my mother's neck, and she dissolved before my eyes, melting into light, a shimmering golden form, as if she were a holographic projection. A blinding flash, and she was simply ... gone.**

 **"No!"**

 **Anger replaced my fear. Newfound strength burned in my limbs-the same rush of energy I'd gotten when Mrs. Dodds grew talons.**

 **The bull-man bore down on Grover, who lay helpless in the grass. The monster hunched over, snuffling my best friend, as if he were about to lift Grover up and make him dissolve too.**

 **I couldn't allow that.**

 **I stripped off my red rain jacket.**

 _"HEY!_ **" I screamed, waving the jacket, running to one side of the monster. "Hey, stupid! Ground beef!"**

 **"Raaaarrrrr!" The monster turned toward me, shaking his meaty fists.**

 **I had an idea. A stupid idea, but better than no idea at all. I put my back to the big pine tree and waved my red jacket in front of the bull-man, thinking I'd jump out of the way at the last moment.**

 **But it didn't happen like that.**

 **The bull-man charged too fast, his arms out to grab me whichever way I tried to dodge.**

 **Time slowed down.**

 **My legs tensed. I couldn't jump sideways, so I leaped straight up, kicking off from the creature's head, using it as a springboard, turning in midair, and landing on his neck.**

 **How did I do that? I didn't have time to figure it out. A millisecond later, the monster's head slammed into the tree and the impact nearly knocked my teeth out.**

 **The bull-man staggered around, trying to shake me. I locked my arms around his horns to keep from being thrown. Thunder and lightning were still going strong. The rain was in my eyes. The smell of rotten meat burned my nostrils.**

 **The monster shook himself around and bucked like a rodeo bull. He should have just backed up into the tree and smashed me flat, but I was starting to realise that this thing had only one gear: forward.**

 **Meanwhile, Grover started groaning in the grass. I wanted to yell at him to shut up, but the way I was getting tossed around, if I opened my mouth I'd bite my own tongue off.**

 **"Food!" Grover moaned.**

 **The bull-man wheeled toward him, pawed the ground again, and got ready to charge. I thought about how he had squeezed the life out of my mother, made her disappear in a flash of light, and rage filled me like high-octane fuel. I got both hands around one horn and I pulled backward with all my might. The monster tensed, gave a surprised grunt, then -** _snap!_

 **The bull-man screamed and flung me through the air. I landed flat on my back in the grass. My head smacked against a rock. When I sat up, my vision was blurry, but I had a horn in my hands, a ragged bone weapon the size of a knife.**

 **The monster charged.**

 **Without thinking, I rolled to one side and came up kneeling. As the monster barrelled past, I drove the broken horn straight into his side, right up under his furry rib cage.**

 **The bull-man roared in agony. He flailed, clawing at his chest, then began to disintegrate-not like my mother, in a flash of golden light, but like crumbling sand, blown away in chunks by the wind, the same way Mrs. Dodds had burst apart.**

 **The monster was gone.**

* * *

If she was still here. If she was still alive. She'd congratulate me for beating _it._ They both would.

The rain had stopped. The storm still rumbled, but only in the distance. It was as if the weather knew the battle was won. Or did it calm down because it was mourning someone. Mourning for my mom. Mourning her. Mourning the loss of the world that I once knew. I smelled like livestock and my knees were shaking. My head felt like it was splitting open. I was weak and scared and trembling with grief I'd just seen my mother vanish. I want her back. Both of them. I never even got to see her face! Who is she? Whoever she was, I'm sure she would have helped me now and consoled me over the loss of my... my... my mother... I wanted to lie down and cry, but there was Grover, needing my help, so I managed to haul him up and stagger down into the valley, toward the lights of the farm-house. I was crying, calling for my mother, calling for her even calling for my long lost father but I held on to Grover-I wasn't going to let him go. I'd lost them all. I wouldn't lose him too.

The last thing I remember is collapsing on a wooden porch, looking up at a ceiling fan circling above me, moths flying around a yellow light, and the stern faces of a familiar-looking bearded man and a pretty girl, her blond hair curled like a princess's. They both looked down at me, and the girl said, "He's the one. He must be." She would of so teased me right now...

"Silence, Annabeth," the man said. "He's still conscious. Bring him inside."


	10. He's A What?

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or plot. Only the twists I put into the plot and my character. All the rights to the main plot and characters belong to Rick Riordan.  
**

* * *

 _ **I Play Pinochle With A Horse**_

I had weird dreams full of barnyard animals and a girl. Most of them wanted to kill me. The rest wanted food. And the girl oddly enough just sat with a familiar stance–her was head bowed.

I remember now. She's looks and sits exactly like the girl with the three old ladies who may or may not have cut my life chord. With that revelation, I tried my hardest to wake up.

I must've woken up several times, but what I heard and saw made no sense, so I just passed out again. I know. Stupid move. But come on. I did just fight the minota–Pasiphae's son! I have a right to act stupid right now! Then I remember lying in a soft bed, being spoon-fed something that tasted like buttered popcorn, only it was pudding. The girl with curly blond hair hovered over me, smirking as she scraped drips off my chin with the spoon. She's enjoying me being in pain too much…

When she saw my eyes open, she asked, "What will happen at the summer solstice?"

I managed to croak, "What?" What the hell is she talking about?

She looked around, as if afraid someone would over-hear. "What's going on? What was stolen? We've only got a few weeks!"

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, "I don't..."

Somebody knocked on the door, and the girl quickly filled my mouth with pudding. How rude!

The next time I woke up, the girl was gone. And no, I didn't miss her…

A husky blond dude, like a surfer, stood in the corner of the bedroom keeping watch over me. He had blue eyes- at least a dozen of them-on his cheeks, his forehead, the backs of his hands. The sight of him just made me pass out again!

When I finally came around for good, there was nothing weird about my surroundings, so I can cross off the possibility of drugs off my list, except that they were nicer than I was used to. I was sitting in a deck chair on a huge porch, gazing across a meadow at green hills in the distance. Why am I outside? At least it's comfortable… The breeze smelled like strawberries. There was a blanket over my legs, a pillow behind my neck. All that was great, but my mouth felt like a scorpion had been using it for a nest. My tongue was dry and nasty and every one of my teeth hurt.

On the table next to me was a tall drink. It looked like iced apple juice, with a green straw and a paper parasol stuck through a maraschino cherry.

My hand was so weak I almost dropped the glass once I got my fingers around it.

"Careful," a familiar voice said.

Grover was leaning against the porch railing, looking like he hadn't slept in a week. Under one arm, he cradled a shoe box. He was wearing blue jeans, Converse hi-tops and a bright orange T-shirt that said **_CAMP HALF-BLOOD_**. Just plain old Grover, Not the goat boy.

So maybe I'd had a nightmare. Maybe someone _did_ slip me some drugs in my food. Maybe my mom was okay. Maybe she is okay and not hurt like I last remembered. My mom and I were still on vacation, and we'd stopped here at this big house for some reason. And…

"You saved my life," Grover said. "I… well, the least I could do… I went back to the hill. I thought you might want this."

Reverently, he placed the shoe box in my lap. I cautiously opened it hoping against hope that it was something good that would prove my nightmare wasn't part of reality…

Inside was a black-and-white bull's horn, the base jagged from being broken off, the tip splattered with dried blood. It hadn't been a nightmare. It was all real. They're both gone. The most important and the most mysterious people in my life just disappeared in a gold glow.

"The Minotaur," I said.

"Urn, Percy, it isn't a good idea-"

"That's what they call him in the Greek myths, isn't it?" I demanded. Well they aren't myths anymore now that they are part of the _real_ world. "The Minotaur. Half man, half bull."

Grover shifted uncomfortably. "You've been out for two days. How much do you remember?"

"My mom. Is she really …"

He looked down. _No… She can't be! Mom…_

I stared across the meadow. There were groves of trees, a winding stream, acres of strawberries spread out under the blue sky. The valley was surrounded by rolling hills, and the tallest one, directly in front of us, was the one with the huge pine tree on top. Even that looked beautiful in the sunlight.

My mother was gone. The whole world should be black and cold. Nothing should look beautiful.

"I'm sorry," Grover sniffled. "I'm a failure. I'm-I'm the worst satyr in the world."

He moaned, stomping his foot so hard it came off. I mean, the Converse hi-top came off. The inside was filled with Styrofoam, except for a hoof-shaped hole.

"Oh, Styx!" he mumbled.

Thunder rolled across the clear sky. Seriously! Who controls the weather in this world. Since these monsters exist, someone must be controlling the weather. I can't wait to find out who so I can say to them how reflective the weather is to themselves since it seems to reflect whenever this guy is PMS-ing. It happens every month so it's a possibility!

As he struggled to get his hoof back in the fake foot, I thought, Well, that settles it. There's no point denying it anymore is there?

Grover was a satyr. I was ready to bet that if I shaved his curly brown hair, I'd find tiny horns on his head. Huh… that would be a cool thing to check… hmmmm… But I was too miserable to care that satyrs existed, or even minotaurs. All that meant was my mom really had been squeezed into nothingness, dissolved into yellow light. And my other protector was obliterated by that golden light!

I was alone. An orphan. I would have to live with… Smelly Gabe? No. That would never happen. I would live on the streets first. I would pretend I was seventeen and join the army. I'd do something.

Okay. I know the last idea won't work out but I am determined to not go back to _him!_

Grover was still sniffling. The poor kid-poor goat, satyr, whatever-looked as if he expected to be hit. I may have violent thoughts in some occasions but this is still Grover! No matter how angry I am at the guy, he's my best friend!

I said, "It wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was. I was supposed to _protect_ you."

"Did my mother ask you to protect me?"

"No. But that's my job. I'm a keeper. At least… I was."

"But why…" I suddenly felt dizzy, my vision swimming.

"Don't strain yourself," Grover said. And you couldn't have warned me a bit earlier? "Here."

He helped me hold my glass and put the straw to my lips.

I recoiled at the taste, because I was expecting apple juice. It wasn't that at all. It tastes heavenly; I didn't recoil because it was bad. It was one of the best things that I've ever tasted! It was chocolate-chip cookies. Liquid cookies. And not just any cookies-my mom's homemade blue chocolate-chip cookies, buttery and hot, with the chips still melting. Drinking it, my whole body felt warm and good, full of energy. My grief didn't go away, I don't think anything could take it away to be honest but I felt as if my mom had just brushed her hand against my cheek, given me a cookie the way she used to when I was small, and told me everything was going to be okay.

Before I knew it, I'd drained the glass. I stared into it, sure I'd just had a warm drink, but the ice cubes hadn't even melted.

"Was it good?" Grover asked.

I nodded.

"What did it taste like?" He sounded so wistful, I felt guilty.

"Sorry," I said. "I should've let you taste."

His eyes got wide. "No! That's not what I meant. I just... wondered." He sounded so wistful a couple of moment ago and now he acts like he hates it. What's that about?

"Chocolate-chip cookies," I said. "My mom's. Home-made."

He sighed. "And how do you feel?"

"Like I could throw Nancy Bobofit a hundred yards." Oooh… Maybe I should go Bobofit hunting and see if I can throw her a few hundred yards.

"That's good," he said. "That's good. I don't think you could risk drinking any more of that stuff" "What do you mean?"

He took the empty glass from me gingerly, as if it were dynamite, and set it back on the table. "Come on. Chiron and Mr. D are waiting." Why do people _always_ ignore my questions?

The porch wrapped all the way around the farmhouse.

My legs felt wobbly, trying to walk that far. Grover offered to carry the Minotaur horn, but I held on to it. I'd paid for that souvenir the hard way. I wasn't going to let it go. If I did it would be like losing the last bit I had of my mother. I needed it to remember her. To ground me to reality. To ground me to her– my mom, not the mysterious girl whose name I still don't know.

As we came around the opposite end of the house, I caught my breath.

We must've been on the north shore of Long Island, because on this side of the house, the valley marched all the way up to the water, which glittered about a mile in the distance. Between here and there, I simply couldn't process everything I was seeing. The landscape was dotted with buildings that looked like ancient Greek architecture-an open-air pavilion, an amphitheater, a circular arena-except that they all looked brand new, their white marble columns sparkling in the sun. In a nearby sandpit, a dozen high school-age kids and satyrs played volleyball. Canoes glided across a small lake. Kids in bright orange T-shirts like Grover's were chasing each other around a cluster of cabins nestled in the woods. Some shot targets at an archery range. Others rode horses down a wooded trail, and, unless I was hallucinating, some of their horses had wings. It wouldn't be the first time that I hallucinated an event. But then again, it wouldn't be the first time I think I hallucinated an event but I didn't!

Down at the end of the porch, two men sat across from each other at a card table. The blond-haired girl who'd spoon-fed me popcorn-flavored pudding was leaning on the porch rail next to them.

The man facing me was small, but porky. He had a red nose, big watery eyes, and curly hair so black it was almost purple. He looked like those paintings of baby angels- what do you call them, hubbubs? No, cherubs. That's it. He looked like a cherub who'd turned middle-aged in a trailer park. He wore a tiger- pattern Hawaiian shirt, and he would've fit right in at one of Gabe's poker parties, except I got the feeling this guy could've out-gambled even my step-father. I think anyone and anything could out gamble that lazy creature.

"That's Mr. D," Grover murmured to me. "He's the camp director. Be polite. The girl, that's Annabeth Chase. She's just a camper, but she's been here longer than just about anybody. And you already know Chiron... ."

He pointed at the guy whose back was to me. I do? I'm pretty sure I'd know a man named 'Chiron'.

First, I realised he was sitting in the wheelchair. Then I recognised the tweed jacket, the thinning brown hair, the scraggly beard.

"Mr. Brunner!" I cried. Maybe I should have called him Chiron. Grover did just say his name _was_ Chiron, not Mr. Brunner. Then again, maybe his name _is_ Chiron and his surname is Brunner: Chiron Brunner? Nah. That sounds even more stupid…

The Latin teacher turned and smiled at me. His eyes had that mischievous glint they sometimes got in class when he pulled a pop quiz and made all the multiple choice answers _B._

"Ah, good, Percy," he said. "Now we have four for pinochle."

He offered me a chair to the right of Mr. D, who looked at me with bloodshot eyes and heaved a great sigh. "Oh, I suppose I must say it. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. There. Now, don't expect me to be glad to see you." I'm not particularly happy to see you either dude but the half-goat guy told me I had to see you so…

"Uh, thanks." I scooted a little farther away from him because, if there was one thing I had learned from living with Gabe, it was how to tell when an adult has been hitting the happy juice. Even if Gabe wasn't abusive, I still learnt which times it was okay to mess with him and which ones weren't so okay. You could tell at first glance that he was an alcoholic. If Mr. D was a stranger to alcohol, I was a satyr.

"Annabeth?" Mr. Brunner called to the blond girl. So that's the blond girl's name. I should stop referring to her as blond girl then… Annabeth. What a unique name. I've never heard someone with a name like that before, it suits her though!

She came forward and Mr. Brunner introduced us. "This young lady nursed you back to health, Percy. Annabeth, my dear, why don't you go check on Percy's bunk? We'll be putting him in cabin eleven for now."

Annabeth said, "Sure, Chiron."

She was probably my age, maybe a couple of inches taller, and a whole lot more athletic looking. With her deep tan and her curly blond hair, she was almost exactly what I thought a stereotypical California girl would look like, except her eyes ruined the image. Not in a bad were startling grey, like storm clouds; pretty, but intimidating, too, as if she were analysing the best way to take me down in a fight. She was… uhhh… pretty, I guess.

She glanced at the minotaur horn in my hands, then back at me. I imagined she was going to say, _You killed a minotaur!_ or _Wow, you're so awesome!_ or something like that.

Instead she said, "You drool when you sleep." Well that was unexpected!

I blushed a deep red and turned away from her slightly in hope that she wouldn't notice. It probably didn't work to be honest.

Then she sprinted off down the lawn, her blond hair flying behind her. At least I know princess can run. I better not call her that to her face. Otherwise she'd take me down with the moves she was plotting against me a couple of moments ago.

"So," I said, anxious to change the subject and hoping that my blush died down. "You, uh, work here, Mr. Brunner?"

"Not Mr. Brunner," the ex-Mr. Brunner said. "I'm afraid that was a pseudonym. You may call me Chiron." Uhhhhh… Pseudonym means a fake name right?

"Okay." Totally confused, I looked at the director. "And Mr. D ... does that stand for something?" is it another fictional name?

Mr. D stopped shuffling the cards. He looked at me like I'd just belched loudly. I may be disrespectful in occasion but belching in front of strangers and my old teacher is weird as well as disrespectful! "Young man, names are powerful things. You don't just go around using them for no reason." So I have been told.

"Oh. Right. Sorry."


	11. He's A What? Part II

"I must say, Percy," Chiron-Brunner broke in, "I'm glad to see you alive. It's been a long time since I've made a house call to a potential camper. I'd hate to think I've wasted my time."

"House call?" What the hell is that?

"My year at Yancy Academy, to instruct you. We have satyrs at most schools, of course, keeping a lookout. But Grover alerted me as soon as he met you. He sensed you were something special, so I decided to come upstate. I convinced the other Latin teacher to ... ah, take a leave of absence."

I tried to remember the beginning of the school year. It seemed like so long ago, but I did have a fuzzy memory of there being another Latin teacher my first week at Yancy. Then, without explanation, he had disappeared and Mr. Brunner had taken the class. So that's why that old geezer left us. There were rumours circling the school that he'd died of heart attack. At least the old man is okay and healthy. Well I hope he is…

"You came to Yancy just to teach me?" I asked. I felt oddly smug over that fact.

Chiron nodded. "Honestly, I wasn't sure about you at first. We contacted your mother, let her know we were keeping an eye on you in case you were ready for Camp Half-Blood. But you still had so much to learn. Nevertheless, you made it here alive, and that's always the first test."

"Grover," Mr. D said impatiently, "are you playing or not?"

"Yes, sir!" Grover trembled as he took the fourth chair, though I didn't know why he should be so afraid of a pudgy little man in a tiger-print Hawaiian shirt.

"You _do_ know how to play pinochle?" Mr. D eyed me suspiciously.

"I'm afraid not," I said. Why would I need to know how to play. It's not like I was ever going to a job interview to be asked whether I could play this blasted game!

"I'm afraid not, _sir,_ " he said.

"Sir," I repeated. I was liking the camp director less and less. Who even likes this guy?

"Well," he told me, "it is, along with gladiator fighting and Pac-Man, one of the greatest games ever invented by humans. I would expect all _civilised_ young men to know the rules." Well most civilised men do not drink at this time of the day and stay on their fat a**' that they become as round as a cherry!

"I'm sure the boy can learn," Chiron said. Well I don't really want to learn…

"Please," I said, "what is this place? What am I doing here? Mr. Brun — Chiron — why would you go to Yancy Academy just to teach me?"

Mr. D snorted. "I asked the same question."

The camp director dealt the cards. Grover flinched every time one landed in his pile. What did I say Grover. Man up. Be more man than goat…

Chiron smiled at me sympathetically, the way he used to in Latin class, as if to let me know that no matter what my average was, _I_ was his star student. He expected me to have the right answer.

"Percy," he said. "Did your mother tell you nothing?'

"She said ..." I remembered her sad eyes, looking out over the sea. "She told me she was afraid to send me here, even though my father had wanted her to. She said that once I was here, I probably couldn't leave. She wanted to keep me close to her."

"Typical," Mr. D said. "That's how they usually get killed. Young man, are you bidding or not?"

"What?" I asked.

He explained, impatiently, how you bid in pinochle, and so I did.

"I'm afraid there's too much to tell," Chiron said. "I'm afraid our usual orientation film won't be sufficient."

"Orientation film?" I asked.

"No," Chiron decided. "Well, Percy. You know your friend Grover is a satyr. You know—" he pointed to the horn in the shoe box "—that you have killed the Minotaur. No small feat, either, lad. What you may not know is that great powers are at work in your life. Gods - the forces you call the Greek gods - are very much alive."

I stared at the others around the table and my only thought was that, names have power so why were you reprimanding me about saying their names but you are doing the exact same thing!

I waited for somebody to yell, _Not!_ But all I got was Mr. D yelling, "Oh, a royal marriage. Trick! Trick!" He cackled as he tallied up his points.

"Mr. D," Grover asked timidly, "if you're not going to eat it, could I have your Diet Coke can?"

"Eh? Oh, all right."

Grover bit a huge shard out of the empty aluminium can and chewed it mournfully. Isn't that a normal sight…

"Wait," I told Chiron. "You're telling me there's such a thing as God."

"Well, now," Chiron said. "God-capital G, God. That's a different matter altogether. We shan't deal with the metaphysical."

"Metaphysical? But you were just talking about—"

"Ah, gods, plural, as in, great beings that control the forces of nature and human endeavours: the immortal gods of Olympus. That's a smaller matter."

"Smaller?" How can gods be a 'smaller' matter?

"Yes, quite. The gods we discussed in Latin class."

"Zeus," I said. "Hera. Apollo. You mean them."

And there it was again-distant thunder on a cloud-less day.

"Young man," said Mr. D, "I would really be less casual about throwing those names around, if I were you." But Chiron did it! Why can't I? Wow! I sound like a whining child…

"But they're stories," I said. "They're - myths, to explain lightning and the seasons and stuff. They're what people believed before there was science."

"Science!" Mr. D scoffed. "And tell me, Perseus Jackson—"

I flinched when he said my real name, which I never told anybody and only my mother and the girl knew. No one ever called me that unless I was in trouble.

"—what will people think of your 'science' two thousand years from now?" Mr. D continued. "Hmm? They will call it primitive mumbo jumbo. That's what. Oh, I love mortals-they have absolutely no sense of perspective. They think they've come _so-o-o_ far. And have they, Chiron? Look at this boy and tell me."

I wasn't liking Mr. D much, but there was something about the way he called me mortal, as if... he wasn't. It was enough to put a lump in my throat, to suggest why Grover was dutifully minding his cards, chewing his soda can, and keeping his mouth shut.

"Percy," Chiron said, "you may choose to believe or not, but the fact is that _immortal_ means immortal. Can you imagine that for a moment, never dying? Never fading? Existing, just as you are, for all time?"

I was about to answer, off the top of my head, that it sounded like a pretty good deal, but the tone of Chiron's voice made me hesitate.

"You mean, whether people believed in you or not," I said.

"Exactly," Chiron agreed. "If you were a god, how would you like being called a myth, an old story to explain lightning? What if I told you, Perseus Jackson, that some-day people would call you a myth, just created to explain how little boys can get over losing their mothers?"

My heart pounded. He was trying to make me angry for some reason, but I wasn't going to let him. I said, "I wouldn't like it. But I don't believe in gods. And will someone please tell me who that girl was?"

"Oh, you'd better," Mr. D murmured. "Before one of them incinerates you."

Grover said, "P-please, sir. He's just lost his mother. He's in shock. He keeps rambling about this girl he keeps seeing. I don't think he feels well."

"A lucky thing, too," Mr. D grumbled, playing a card. "Bad enough I'm confined to this miserable job, working with boys who don't even believe."

He waved his hand and a goblet appeared on the table, as if the sunlight had bent, momentarily, and woven the air into glass. The goblet filled itself with red wine.

My jaw dropped, but Chiron hardly looked up.

"Mr. D," he warned, "your restrictions."

Mr. D looked at the wine and feigned surprise.

"Dear me." He looked at the sky and yelled, "Old habits! Sorry!"

More thunder.

Mr. D waved his hand again, and the wineglass changed into a fresh can of Diet Coke. He sighed unhappily, popped the top of the soda, and went back to his card game.

Chiron winked at me. "Mr. D offended his father a while back, took a fancy to a wood nymph who had been declared off-limits."

"A wood nymph," I repeated, still staring at the Diet Coke can like it was from outer space.

"Yes," Mr. D confessed. "Father loves to punish me. The first time, Prohibition. Ghastly! Absolutely horrid ten years! The second time-well, she really was pretty, and I couldn't stay away-the second time, he sent me here. Half-Blood Hill. Summer camp for brats like you. 'Be a better influence,' he told me. 'Work with youths rather than tear-ing them down.' Ha.' Absolutely unfair."

Mr. D sounded about six years old, like a pouting little kid.

"And ..." I stammered, "your father is …"

" _Di immortales_ , Chiron," Mr. D said. "I thought you taught this boy the basics. My father is Zeus, of course."

I ran through D names from Greek mythology. Wine. The skin of a tiger. The satyrs that all seemed to work here. The way Grover cringed, as if Mr. D were his master.

"You're Dionysus," I said. "The god of wine."

Mr. D rolled his eyes. "What do they say, these days, Grover? Do the children say, 'Well, duh!'?"

"Y-yes, Mr. D."

"Then, well, duh! Percy Jackson. Did you think I was Aphrodite, perhaps?" You don't exactly fit the description of Aphrodite but if you got it, flaunt it, right? If you wanna be a fashion diva, no one's stopping you!

"You're a god."

"Yes, child."

"A god. You." Now I really must be dreaming or high on drugs!

He turned to look at me straight on, and I saw a kind of purplish fire in his eyes, a hint that this whiny, plump little man was only showing me the tiniest bit of his true nature. I saw visions of grape vines choking unbelievers to death, drunken warriors insane with battle lust, sailors screaming as their hands turned to flippers, their faces elongating into dolphin snouts. I knew that if I pushed him, Mr. D would show me worse things. He would plant a disease in my brain that would leave me wearing a strait-jacket in a rubber room for the rest of my life.

"Would you like to test me, child?" he said quietly.

"No. No, sir."

The fire died a little and silence settled between us. I wanted to know more so I asked, "Who was that girl watching over me? Not Annabeth. The one who's been looking after me since the incident at the museum."

Mr. D jerked his head up showing me he knew who I was talking about. Chiron just carried on with the game as if we were talking about something mundane like the weather.

The fire returned in his eyes and he passionately spoke, "That girl you speak of got seriously hurt protecting _you_. I don't know why she risked her life to do so, but unfortunately she did so now she's also recuperating."

"So you do know her. She wasn't a figment of my imagination."

"She wasn't. But you won't be seeing her anytime soon so forget about her. She is none of your concern!" He turned back to his card game. "I believe I win."

"Not quite, Mr. D," Chiron said. He set down a straight, tallied the points, and said, "The game goes to me."

I thought Mr. D was going to vaporise Chiron right out of his wheelchair, but he just sighed through his nose, as if he were used to being beaten by the Latin teacher. He got up, and Grover rose, too.

"I'm tired," Mr. D said. "I believe I'll take a nap before the sing-along tonight. But first, Grover, we need to talk, _again,_ about your less-than-perfect performance on this assignment."

Grover's face beaded with sweat. "Y-yes, sir."

Mr. D turned to me. "Cabin eleven, Percy Jackson. And mind your manners."

He swept into the farmhouse, Grover following miserably. Why are my questions never answered? And when they are, why am I always left with more questions?

* * *

 **AN:** All this bit in bold belongs to Rick Riordan. I didn't know what else to put so I just typed up the ending of the chapter You can skip to the next chapter if you like...

* * *

 **"Will Grover be okay?" I asked Chiron.**

 **Chiron nodded, though he looked a bit troubled. "Old Dionysus isn't really mad. He just hates his job. He's been ... ah, grounded, I guess you would say, and he can't stand waiting another century before he's allowed to go back to Olympus."**

 **"Mount Olympus," I said. "You're telling me there really is a palace there?"**

 **"Well now, there's Mount Olympus in Greece. And then there's the home of the gods, the convergence point of their powers, which did indeed used to be on Mount Olympus. It's still called Mount Olympus, out of respect to the old ways, but the palace moves, Percy, just as the gods do."**

 **"You mean the Greek gods are here? Like ... in** ** _America?_** **"**

 **"Well, certainly. The gods move with the heart of the West."**

 **"The what?"**

 **"Come now, Percy. What you call 'Western civilisation.' Do you think it's just an abstract concept? No, it's a living force. A collective consciousness that has burned bright for thousands of years. The gods are part of it. You might even say they are the source of it, or at least, they are tied so tightly to it that they couldn't possibly fade, not unless all of Western civilisation were obliterated. The fire started in Greece. Then, as you well know-or as I hope you know, since you passed my course-the heart of the fire moved to Rome, and so did the gods. Oh, different names, perhaps-Jupiter for Zeus, Venus for Aphrodite, and so on-but the same forces, the same gods."**

 **"And then they died."**

 **"Died? No. Did the West die? The gods simply moved, to Germany, to France, to Spain, for a while. Wherever the flame was brightest, the gods were there. They spent several centuries in England. All you need to do is look at the architecture. People do not forget the gods. Every place they've ruled, for the last three thousand years, you can see them in paintings, in statues, on the most important buildings. And yes, Percy, of course they are now in your United States. Look at your symbol, the eagle of Zeus. Look at the statue of Prometheus in Rockefeller Center, the Greek facades of your government buildings in Washington. I defy you to find any American city where the Olympians are not prominently displayed in multiple places. Like it or not-and believe me, plenty of people weren't very fond of Rome, either- America is now the heart of the flame. It is the great power of the West. And so Olympus is here. And we are here."**

 **It was all too much, especially the fact that I seemed to be included in Chiron's** ** _we,_** **as if I were part of some club.**

* * *

"Who are you, Chiron? Who ... who am I?" Please tell me. No one has told me who or what I am yet. I'm so confused.

Chiron smiled. He shifted his weight as if he were going to get up out of his wheelchair, but I knew that was impossible. He was paralysed from the waist down. You can imagine my surprise later on…

"Who are you?" he mused. "Well, that's the question we all want answered, isn't it? But for now, we should get you a bunk in cabin eleven. There will be new friends to meet. And plenty of time for lessons tomorrow. Besides, there will be s'mores at the campfire tonight, and I simply adore chocolate." I feel as if you _do_ know who I am. I know she knew who I was since she knew who my mum _and_ dad were. She knows who I am. Where is she when you need her!?

And then he did rise from his wheelchair. But there was something odd about the way he did it. His blanket fell away from his legs, but the legs didn't move. His waist kept getting longer, rising above his belt. At first, I thought he was wearing very long, white velvet underwear, but as he kept rising out of the chair, taller than any man, I realised that the velvet underwear wasn't underwear; it was the front of an animal, muscle and sinew under coarse white fur. And the wheelchair wasn't a chair. It was some kind of container, an enormous box on wheels, and it must've been magic, because there's no way it could've held all of him. A leg came out, long and knobby-kneed, with a huge polished hoof. Then another front leg, then hindquarters, and then the box was empty, nothing but a metal shell with a couple of fake human legs attached. Wha— What the hell? How is that possible?

I stared at the horse who had just sprung from the wheelchair: a huge white stallion. But where its neck should be was the upper body of my Latin teacher, smoothly grafted to the horse's trunk. My world is _never_ gonna be normal anymore.

"What a relief," the centaur said. "I'd been cooped up in there so long, my fetlocks had fallen asleep. Now, come, Percy Jackson. Let's meet the other campers."

 _Cooped up?_ Fetlocks. I'm gonna pass out again if something like this surprises me…


	12. I'm A Lord

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or plot. Only the twists I put into the plot and my character. All the rights to the main plot and characters belong to Rick Riordan.  
**

* * *

 _ **I Become Supreme Lord Of The Bathroom**_

Once I got over the fact that my Latin teacher was a horse, I think I acted to casual for it to be normal! We then went on a nice tour, though I was careful not to walk behind him. I'd done pooper-scooper patrol in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade a few times, and, I'm sorry, I did not trust Chiron's back end the way I trusted his front. It may sound disrespectful but I wasn't taking any chances!

We passed the volleyball pit. Several of the campers nudged each other. One pointed to the minotaur horn I was carrying. Another said, "That's _him."_ These guys should really learn to talk to people face to face since even when they're whispering, I could hear them; the point of whispering is so that the other person won't hear them!

Most of the campers were older than me. Their satyr friends were bigger than Grover, all of them trotting around in orange **_CAMP HALF-BLOOD_** T-shirts, with nothing else to cover their bare shaggy hindquarters. I wasn't normally shy, but the way they stared at me made me uncomfortable. I felt like they were expecting me to do a flip or something. Not that that would be much of a challenge; I learnt how to back flip after _she_ dared me to a couple of months after the Mrs. Dodds incident…

I looked back at the farmhouse. It was a lot bigger than I'd realised - four stories tall, sky blue with white trim, like an upscale seaside resort. I was checking out the brass eagle weather vane on top when something caught my eye, a shadow in the uppermost window of the attic gable. Its movement seemed similar to that of the figure in the museum. Something had moved the curtain, just for a second, and I got the distinct impression I was being watched. I knew for the fact that I was being watched since it is a feeling that is familiar to me after months of being watched by her.

"What's up there?" I asked Chiron innocently, not that it worked.

He looked where I was pointing, and his smile faded. "Just the attic." Is he hiding something from me too?

"Somebody lives there?"

"No," he said with finality. That was a long pause! What he says next will either be a lie or a twisted version of the truth. "Not a single living thing." Which is it?

I got the feeling he was being truthful. But I was also sure something had moved that curtain. So the truth was twisted…

"Come along, Percy," Chiron said, his lighthearted tone now a little forced. "Lots to see." I hate it when adults lie 'cause you'll never know who's telling the truth!

We walked through the strawberry fields, where campers were picking bushels of berries while a satyr played a tune on a reed pipe.

Chiron told me the camp grew a nice crop for export to New York restaurants and Mount Olympus. "It pays our expenses," he explained. "And the strawberries take almost no effort." At least _that_ is similar to how a _normal_ camp works. Not that I have ever been to camp other than this one, Gabe always said we never had enough money for me to go… Besides I'd prefer to spend my holidays with mom. **_Mom…_**

He said Mr. D had this effect on fruit-bearing plants: they just went crazy when he was around. It worked best with wine grapes, but Mr. D was restricted from growing those, so they grew strawberries instead. At least there is _something_ he could do around camp besides being lazy!

I watched the satyr playing his pipe. His music was causing lines of bugs to leave the strawberry patch in every direction, like refugees fleeing a fire. It's like mice rolling the Pied Piper… I wonder where the bugs are gonna live n—? How is that my concern? I need to _wake up…_ I shook my head clear of those thoughts and I wondered if Grover could work that kind of magic with music. I wondered if he was still inside the farmhouse, getting chewed out by Mr. D. Poor Grover!

"Grover won't get in too much trouble, will he?" I asked Chiron. "I mean… he was a good protector. Really." He wasn't the best but he got me here didn't he? That's gotta count for something!

Chiron sighed. He shed his tweed jacket and draped it over his horses back like a saddle. Don't know why you'd wanna wear that! It's the 21st century, of all the clothes you choose to wear, you picked a tweed jacket! "Grover has big dreams, Percy. Perhaps bigger than are reasonable. To reach his goal, he must first demonstrate great courage by succeeding as a keeper, finding a new camper and bringing him safely to Half-Blood Hill."

"But he did that!"

"I might agree with you," Chiron said. "But it is not my place to judge. Dionysus and the Council of Cloven Elders must decide. I'm afraid they might not see this assignment as a success. After all, Grover lost you in New York. Then there's the unfortunate… ah… fate of your mother. And the fact that Grover was unconscious when you dragged him over the property line. The council might question whether this shows any courage on Grover's part."

I wanted to protest. None of what happened was Grover's fault. I also felt really, really guilty. If I hadn't given Grover the slip at the bus station, he might not have gotten in trouble. All of those events weren't his fault! Maybe I can talk to Mr. D about Grover, make them see my side of story. Grover doesn't deserve to be punished and I'd suffer Mr. D's presence for the guy…

"He'll get a second chance, won't he?" Everyone deserves a second chance after all…Everyone but Gabe!

Chiron winced. Oh no; what happened? "I'm afraid that was Grover's second chance, Percy—" _What!?_ "—The council was not anxious to give him another, either, after what happened the first time, five years ago. Olympus knows, I advised him to wait longer before trying again. He's still so small for his age... ."

"How old is he?"

"Oh, twenty-eight."

"What! And he's in sixth grade?" You consider that young? How old is _old,_ for you?

"Satyrs mature half as fast as humans, Percy. Grover has been the equivalent of a middle school student for the past six years."

"That's horrible." Who would want to relieve all those school years? I can't survive through one!

"Quite," Chiron agreed. "At any rate, Grover is a late bloomer, even by satyr standards, and not yet very accomplished at woodland magic. Alas, he was anxious to pursue his dream. Perhaps now he will find some other career..." Late bloo– hah. Bloomer. Nature. Satyr. Hah!

"That's not fair," I said. "What happened the first time? Was it really so bad?" Does the actions of the past contribute to the decisions of the actions in the present and therefore future?

Before you ask, no I did not say that. She said it to me a while ago… It's getting annoying referring to her as 'she' why can't I know what her name is – or was…

Chiron looked away quickly. "Let's move along, shall we?" It's annoying when he changes the conversation subject so abruptly and with no reason.

Woah! I am getting annoyed with so many things recently. Better cool down or I'm gonna be as grumpy as Mr. D!

But I wasn't quite ready to let the subject drop. Something had occurred to me when Chiron talked about my mother's fate, as if he were intentionally avoiding the word death. The beginnings of an idea—a tiny, hopeful fire—started forming in my mind. Maybe she's not gone. If mom's alive maybe she is too! I never saw her die in the first place so she maybe alive anyway…

"Chiron," I said. "If the gods and Olympus and all that are real..." Which from what I see is quite possible…

"Yes, child?"

"Does that mean the Underworld is real, too?"

Chiron's expression darkened.

"Yes, child." He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. "There is a place where spirits go after death. But for now ... until we know more ... I would urge you to put that out of your mind."

"What do you mean, 'until we know more'?"

"Come, Percy. Let's see the woods." What's so interesting about the woods?

As we got closer, I realised how huge the forest was. Maybe it's not as bad as I thought it was! It took up at least a quarter of the valley, with trees so tall and thick, you could imagine nobody had been in there since the Native Americans. Maybe no mortal has. But demigods definitely have… And that's a different matter itself.

Chiron said, "The woods are stocked, if you care to try your luck, but go armed."

"Stocked with what?" I asked. "Armed with what?"

"You'll see. Capture the flag is Friday night. Do you have your own sword and shield?"

"My own-?" Why the hell would I have my own sword and shiel– does that mean people arrive here with their own weapons? Why didn't my father do that for me? It would have made fighting the Minotaur so much easier!

"No," Chiron said. "I don't suppose you do. I think a size five will do. I'll visit the armoury later."

I wanted to ask what kind of summer camp had an armoury, but there was too much else to think about, so the tour continued. We saw the archery range, the canoeing lake, the stables (which Chiron didn't seem to like very much; I wonder why?), the javelin range, the sing-along amphitheater, and the arena where Chiron said they held sword and spear fights.

"Sword and spear fights?" I asked.

"Cabin challenges and all that," he explained. "Not lethal. Usually. Oh, yes, and there's the mess hall."

Chiron pointed to an outdoor pavilion framed in white Grecian columns on a hill overlooking the sea. There were a dozen stone picnic tables. No roof. No walls.

"What do you do when it rains?" I asked. It rains right? Please let the camp be at least a bit normal!

Chiron looked at me as if I'd gone a little weird. Doesn't it rain here at all? "We still have to eat, don't we?" Obviously they need to eat but why not in their cabins? Does everyone need to eat together? I decided to drop the subject.

Finally, he showed me the cabins. There were twelve of them, probably one for each member of the Olympus council right?, nestled in the woods by the lake. They were arranged in a U shape, with two at the base and five in a row on either side. And they were without doubt the most bizarre collection of buildings I'd ever seen.

Except for the fact that each had a large brass number above the door (odds on the left side, evens on the right), they looked absolutely nothing alike. Number nine had smokestacks, like a tiny factory. Number four had tomato vines on the walls and a roof made out of real grass. Seven seemed to be made of solid gold, which gleamed so much in the sunlight it was almost impossible to look at. They all faced a commons area about the size of a soccer field, dotted with Greek statues, fountains, flower beds, and a couple of basketball hoops (which were more my speed).

In the center of the field was a huge stone-lined fire pit. Even though it was a warm afternoon, the hearth smouldered. A girl about nine years old was tending the flames, poking the coals with a stick. She looked familiar. _Hestia._ The wind whispered.

I was shocked. I thought _she_ was back but the voice wasn't in mind so it couldn't be her. Then I recoiled slightly. She's a **GODDESS**? I hope she's nicer than Mr. D. I'll go say hello later. Remember that!

The pair of cabins at the head of the field, numbers one and two, looked like his-and-hers mausoleums, big white marble boxes with heavy columns in front. Cabin one was the biggest and bulkiest of the twelve. Its polished bronze doors shimmered like a hologram, so that from different angles lightning bolts seemed to streak across them. Cabin two was more graceful somehow, with slimmer columns garlanded with pomegranates and flowers. The walls were carved with images of peacocks.

"Zeus and Hera?" I guessed. Only the King and Queen of the Gods would have such uninhabitable majestic cabins. No one could stay in them but they would just be there to show others they are 'better'.

"Correct," Chiron said. That's a relief, I thought sarcastically.

"Their cabins look empty." Just like the people they represent probably. If Mr. D is anyone to go by, all the Gods must be horrid— I hope not or this world would be horrible…

"Several of the cabins are. That's true. No one ever stays in one or two."

Okay. So each cabin had a different god, like a mascot. Twelve cabins for the twelve Olympians. But why would some be empty? Did something happen to its inhabitants or something? Or is it naturally like that?

I stopped in front of the first cabin on the left, cabin three.

It wasn't high and mighty like cabin one, but long and low and solid. The outer walls were of rough grey stone studded with pieces of seashell and coral, as if the slabs had been hewn straight from the bottom of the ocean floor. I peeked inside the open doorway and Chiron said, "Oh, I wouldn't do that!" Why can't I go in? It feels nicer and calmer compared to the other two cabins…

Before he could pull me back, I caught the salty scent of the interior, like the wind on the shore at Montauk. The interior walls glowed like abalone. There were six empty bunk beds with silk sheets turned down. But there was no sign anyone had ever slept there. The place felt so sad and lonely, I was glad when Chiron put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Come along, Percy."

Most of the other cabins were crowded with campers. The first three cabins aren't inhabited whereas the others are. Why aren't people in the other cabins?

Number five was bright red-a real nasty paint job, as if the colour had been splashed on with buckets and fists. The roof was lined with barbed wire. A stuffed wild boar's head hung over the doorway, and its eyes seemed to follow me. Inside I could see a bunch of mean-looking kids, both girls and boys, arm wrestling and arguing with each other while rock music blared. The loudest was a girl maybe thirteen or fourteen. She wore a size **_XXXL CAMP HALF-BLOOD_** T-shirt under a camouflage jacket. She zeroed in on me and gave me an evil sneer. She reminded me of Nancy Bobofit, though the camper girl was much bigger and tougher looking, and her hair was long and stringy, and brown instead of red. She's probably much better than Nancy any day. No one could be as bad as Nancy Bobofit.

I kept walking, trying to stay clear of Chiron's hooves. Please don't step on me. Or trample me. Or crush me. Or any other thing which will put me back in the infirmary. "We haven't seen any other centaurs," I observed.

"No," said Chiron sadly. "My kinsmen are a wild and barbaric folk, I'm afraid. You might encounter them in the wilderness, or at major sporting events. But you won't see any here." That's a relief that Chiron isn't anything like them then!

"You said your name was Chiron. Are you really…" Could he really be though?

He smiled down at me. "The Chiron from the stories? Trainer of Hercules and all that? Yes, Percy, I am." "But, shouldn't you be dead?" Yeah him…

Chiron paused, as if the question intrigued him. "I honestly don't know about should be. The truth is, I can't be dead. You see, eons ago the gods granted my wish. I could continue the work I loved. I could be a teacher of heroes as long as humanity needed me. I gained much from that wish ... and I gave up much. But I'm still here, so I can only assume I'm still needed."

I thought about being a teacher for three thousand years. It wouldn't have made my Top Ten Things to Wish For list. But then again would I ever want to be immortal in the first place? I don't think I could handle being an immortal.

"Doesn't it ever get boring?"

"No, no," he said. "Horribly depressing, at times, but never boring." I'll take your word for it…

"Why depressing?"

Chiron seemed to turn hard of hearing again. I hate it when he does that! It's like the fifth time he's done it!

"Oh, look," he said. "Annabeth is waiting for us."

The blond girl I'd met at the Big House was reading a book in front of the last cabin on the left, number eleven. Oh look here's princess. I mean Annabeth. I need to get used to calling her Annabeth or I'll accidentally call her princess. And if she heard me say that, I'm pretty sure _she'll_ pulverise me!'

When we reached her, she looked me over critically, like she was still thinking about how much I drooled. Why did she have to watch though?

I tried to see what she was reading, but I couldn't make out the title. I thought my dyslexia was acting up. Then I realised the title wasn't even English. The letters looked Greek to me. I mean, literally Greek. There were pictures of temples and statues and different kinds of columns, like those in an architecture book.

"Annabeth," Chiron said, "I have masters' archery class at noon. Would you take Percy from here?"

"Yes, sir."

"Cabin eleven," Chiron told me, gesturing toward the doorway. "Make yourself at home." Cabin eleven, who's cabin is it then?

Out of all the cabins, eleven looked the most like a regular old summer camp cabin, with the emphasis on old. The threshold was worn down, the brown paint peeling. Over the doorway was one of those doctor's symbols, a winged pole with two snakes wrapped around it. What did they call it…? A caduceus.

So it is Hermes' cabin. Got it.

Inside, it was packed with people, both boys and girls, way more than the number of bunk beds. Sleeping bags were spread all over on the floor. It looked like a gym where the Red Cross had set up an evacuation center.

Chiron didn't go in. It's not that he didn't fit… It's just that the door was too low for him. So in a way, yeah, he didn't fit. But when the campers saw him they all stood and bowed respectfully.

"Well, then," Chiron said. "Good luck, Percy. I'll see you at dinner."

He galloped away toward the archery range. Don't leave me alone with these people! I don't know who they are!


	13. I'm A Lord Part II

I stood in the doorway, looking at the kids. They weren't bowing anymore. They were staring at me, sizing me up. Not that I expected for them to bow but did they really have to stare at me? I knew this routine. I'd gone through it at enough schools. I don't like bullies so I hope these guys are better than bullies!

"Well?" Annabeth prompted. "Go on." Don't be a nag princess! I mean Annabeth. I could even imagine her yelling at me in my head! Uhhhhh! Pay attention…

So naturally I tripped coming in the door and made a total fool of myself. There were some snickers from the campers, but none of them said anything. Of course I'd make a fool of myself when I make my first impression…

Annabeth announced, "Percy Jackson, meet cabin eleven."

"Regular or undetermined?" somebody asked.

I didn't know what to say, but Annabeth said, "Undetermined."

Everybody groaned. Well that's rude. I haven't seen or heard from one polite person. Not that I'm a polite person either… They don't exactly know how to be welcoming do they?

A guy who was a little older than the rest came forward. "Now, now, campers. That's what we're here for. Welcome, Percy. You can have that spot on the floor, right over there."

The guy was about nineteen, and he looked pretty cool. He was tall and muscular, with short-cropped sandy hair and a friendly smile. He wore an orange tank top, cutoffs, sandals, and a leather necklace with five different-coloured clay beads. The only thing unsettling about his appearance was a thick white scar that ran from just beneath his right eye to his jaw, like an old knife slash.

"This is Luke," Annabeth said, and her voice sounded different somehow. I glanced over and could've sworn she was blushing. Oooh… Look who has a crush! She saw me looking, and her expression hardened again. "He's your counsellor for now." Can she read my thoughts or something or does she have something against me. I didn't call her princess in my sleep did I?

"For now?" I asked. Chiron really should have explained what's going on. Or maybe I should have watched the film that he mentioned…

"You're undetermined," Luke explained patiently. "They don't know what cabin to put you in, so you're here. Cabin eleven takes all newcomers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travellers." Finally! Someone who took the time of day to explain _something_ to me. This guy is my new best friend…

I looked at the tiny section of floor they'd given me. I had nothing to put there to mark it as my own, no luggage, no clothes, no sleeping bag. Just the Minotaur's horn. I thought about setting that down, but then I remembered that Hermes was also the god of thieves. Better not put it down or it'll be gone in two seconds flat!

I looked around at the campers' faces, some sullen and suspicious, some grinning stupidly, some eyeing me as if they were waiting for a chance to pick my pockets. Definitely children of Hermes.

"How long will I be here?" I asked. Please don't be for too long. I really don't want the last thing I have of my mother to get stolen from me!

"Good question," Luke said. "Until you're determined." What does that even mean?

"How long will that take?" I asked out of curiosity?

The campers all laughed. Well… So that's what happens when you ask a genuine question!

"Come on," Annabeth told me. "I'll show you the volleyball court."

"I've already seen it."

"Come on."

She grabbed my wrist and dragged me outside. I could hear the kids of cabin eleven laughing behind me. Why are people in this camp so confusing?

When we were a few feet away, Annabeth said, "Jackson, you have to do better than that."

"What?" I don't even have a clue about what's going on! So how am I supposed to be better?

She rolled her eyes and mumbled under her breath, "I can't believe I thought you were the one." 'The one', I think I'm a bit young for that kind of thinking… Maybe that's not what she's talking about… So what is she talking about?

"What's your problem?" I was getting angry now. "All I know is, I kill some bull guy—"

"Don't talk like that!" Annabeth told me. "You know how many kids at this camp wish they'd had your chance?"

"To get killed?" For their mother to be killed for you and to have a protector who you don't know but feel like you know to almost (maybe) die for you.

"To fight the Minotaur! What do you think we train for?" To fight? Or to be killed?

I shook my head. "Look, if the thing I fought really was the Minotaur, the same one in the stories ..."

"Yes." At least you _are_ certain. At least _your_ life is stable right now. Mine is still in a washing machine!

"Then there's only one."

"Yes."

"And he died, like, a gajillion years ago, right? Theseus killed him in the labyrinth. So…" or am I getting my myths mixed up again. I wasn't the best in school so I may have gotten that wrong!

"Monsters don't die, Percy. They can be killed. But they don't die." What? So I killed the Minotaur but he's still alive?

"Oh, thanks. That clears it up."

"They don't have souls, like you and me. You can dispel them for a while, maybe even for a whole lifetime if you're lucky. But they are primal forces. Chiron calls them archetypes. Eventually, they re-form." So it'll be hundreds of years until it comes back right? I won't see it again? That would be great. I don;t know what I'd do if I saw that thing again!

I thought about Mrs. Dodds. "You mean if I killed one, accidentally, with a sword—"

"The Fur… I mean, your math teacher. That's right. She's still out there. You just made her very, very mad."

"How did you know about Mrs. Dodds?" Seriously! Is she psychic or something?

"You talk in your sleep." I talk in my sleep? How long was she watching me sleep for? First it's watching me sleep. I hope she doesn't do that again or watch me on a regular school day cause one, it will be awkward; two it would be creep and three it would be embarrassing!

"You almost called her something. A Fury? They're Hades' torturers, right?"

Annabeth glanced nervously at the ground, as if she expected it to open up and swallow her. "You shouldn't call them by name, even here. We call them the Kindly Ones, if we have to speak of them at all." They take the saying, names are power, really seriously don't they?

"Look, is there anything we can say without it thundering?" I sounded whiny, even to myself, but right then I didn't care. The weather has been messed up for ages. Is the guy controlling it broken or something? "Why do I have to stay in cabin eleven, anyway? Why is everybody so crowded together? There are plenty of empty bunks right over there."

I pointed to the first few cabins, and Annabeth turned pale. "You don't just choose a cabin, Percy. It depends on who your parents are. Or… your parent."

She stared at me, waiting for me to get it.

"My mom is Sally Jackson," I said. "She works at the candy store in Grand Central Station. At least, she used to."

"I'm sorry about your mom, Percy. But that's not what I mean. I'm talking about your other parent. Your dad." At least she's sympathetic. She's warming up to me! She's not nagging or glaring…

"He's dead. I never knew him."

Annabeth sighed. Clearly, she'd had this conversation before with other kids. "Your father's not dead, Percy." So my mom was lying to me?

"How can you say that? You know him?" Is there finally someone other than my mom and that girl who knew him? Will I finally know the truth?

"No, of course not."

"Then how can you say—"

"Because I know you. You wouldn't be here if you weren't one of us."

"You don't know anything about me." No one does but her and mom!

"No?" She raised an eyebrow. "I bet you moved around from school to school. I bet you were kicked out of a lot of them."

"How—"

"Diagnosed with dyslexia. Probably ADHD, too."

I tried to swallow my embarrassment. "What does that have to do with anything?" Am I _that_ readable? And can I get a reply on whether she's psychic or not?

"Taken together, it's almost a sure sign. The letters float off the page when you read, right? That's because your mind is hardwired for ancient Greek. And the ADHD - you're impulsive, can't sit still in the classroom. That's your battle-field reflexes. In a real fight, they'd keep you alive. As for the attention problems, that's because you see too much, Percy, not too little. Your senses are better than a regular mortal's. Of course the teachers want you medicated. Most of them are monsters. They don't want you seeing them for what they are."

"You sound like… you went through the same thing?" **Finally!** Someone who is somewhat like me!

"Most of the kids here did. If you weren't like us, you couldn't have survived the Minotaur, much less the ambrosia and nectar."

"Ambrosia and nectar."What is that stuff?

"The food and drink we were giving you to make you better. That stuff would've killed a normal kid. It would've turned your blood to fire and your bones to sand and you'd be dead. Face it. You're a half- blood." Thanks for telling me that before I drank that stuff. Truly appreciated. It's not like I could have died or anything…

 **A half-blood.**

And my life isn't getting anymore normal is it?

I was reeling with so many questions I didn't know where to start. Come on! Think of a question, I encouraged myself I need an answer. As I go to ask a question…

A husky voice yelled, "Well! A newbie!"

I looked over. The big girl from the ugly red cabin was sauntering toward us. She had three other girls behind her, all big and ugly and mean looking like her, all wearing camo jackets. Who are you?

"Clarisse," Annabeth sighed. "Why don't you go polish your spear or something?"

"Sure, Miss Princess," the big girl said. "So I can run you through with it Friday night."

 _''Errete es korakas!"_ Annabeth said, which I somehow understood was Greek for 'Go to the crows!' though I had a feeling it was a worse curse than it sounded. "You don't stand a chance."

"We'll pulverise you," Clarisse said, but her eye twitched. What's wrong with your eye? Perhaps she wasn't sure she could follow through on the threat. She turned toward me. "Who's this little runt?" The guy everyone has been staring at… The one you glared at this morning… Any recollection of that?

"Percy Jackson," Annabeth said, "meet Clarisse, Daughter of Ares."

I blinked. "Like… the war god?"

Clarisse sneered. "You got a problem with that?"

"No," I said, recovering my wits. "It explains the bad smell."

Clarisse growled. "We got an initiation ceremony for newbies, Prissy."

"Percy." It's not that hard a name to know… Is her IQ so low that she can't comprehend such simple things?

"Whatever. Come on, I'll show you."

"Clarisse—" Annabeth tried to say.

"Stay out of it, wise girl." Wise girl. The name suits her. Maybe I should call her that instead of 'princess'!

Annabeth looked pained, maybe she can read the struggle of my thoughts on what I wanted to call her and she's struggling ti decide whether to punch me or help me out. In the end, she did stay out of it, and to be honest I didn't really want her help. I was the new kid. I had to earn my own rep. I know. A total guy concept but what can I say… I am a guy after all!

I handed Annabeth my minotaur horn and got ready to fight, but before I knew it, Clarisse had me by the neck and was dragging me toward a cinder-block building that I knew immediately was the bathroom.

I was kicking and punching. I'd been in plenty of fights before, but this big girl Clarisse had hands like iron. She dragged me into the girls' bathroom. There was a line of toilets on one side and a line of shower stalls down the other. It smelled just like any public bathroom, and I was thinking - as much as I could think with Clarisse ripping my hair out-that if this place belonged to the gods, they should've been able to afford classier johns.

Clarisse's friends were all laughing, and I was trying to find the strength I'd used to fight the Minotaur, but it just wasn't there.

"Like he's 'Big Three' material," Clarisse said as she pushed me toward one of the toilets. "Yeah, right. Minotaur probably fell over laughing, he was so stupid looking." Yeah. No. If you were there, I'm pretty sure he would have fallen over because of your stench. I wanted to tell her but I was too busy fighting her agonisingly annoying grip.

Her friends snickered.

Annabeth stood in the corner, watching through her fingers. At least I knew I had _some_ support!

Clarisse bent me over on my knees and started pushing my head toward the toilet bowl. It reeked like rusted pipes and, well, like what goes into toilets. I strained to keep my head up. I was looking at the scummy water, thinking, I will not go into that. I won't. I have fought worse than her. I can beat her. I can. I **_will_** _._

Then something happened. I felt a tug in the pit of my stomach. I heard the plumbing rumble, the pipes shudder. Clarisse's grip on my hair loosened. Water shot out of the toilet, making an arc straight over my head, and the next thing I knew, I was sprawled on the bathroom tiles with Clarisse screaming behind me.

I turned just as water blasted out of the toilet again, hitting Clarisse straight in the face so hard it pushed her down onto her butt. The water stayed on her like the spray from a fire hose, pushing her backward into a shower stall. Oh my gods… god… gods! Hahahaha… Clarisse's face!

She struggled, gasping, and her friends started coming toward her. But then the other toilets exploded, too, and six more streams of toilet water blasted them back. The showers acted up, too, and together all the fixtures sprayed the camouflage girls right out of the bathroom, spinning them around like pieces of garbage being washed away.

As soon as they were out the door, I felt the tug in my gut lessen, and the water shut off as quickly as it had started. What just happened?

The entire bathroom was flooded. Annabeth hadn't been spared. She was dripping wet, but she hadn't been pushed out the door. She was standing in exactly the same place, staring at me in shock. Or was it anger? I don' know… All I know was that she wasn't happy with me. Even if I did win against Clarisse.

I looked down and realised I was sitting in the only dry spot in the whole room. There was a circle of dry floor around me. I didn't have one drop of water on my clothes. Nothing.

Cool…

I stood up, my legs shaky. What just happened?

Annabeth said, "How did you…"

"I don't know."

We walked to the door. Outside, Clarisse and her friends were sprawled in the mud, and a bunch of other campers had gathered around to gawk. Clarisse's hair was flattened across her face. Her camouflage jacket was sopping and she smelled like sewage. She gave me a look of absolute hatred. "You are dead, new boy. You are totally dead." I think I just made an enemy. That's not good. Hey, if you don't get along with a godly child does that automatically mean you won't get along with his or her parent?

I probably should have let it go, but I said, "You want to gargle with toilet water again, Clarisse? Close your mouth." Hah. To be fair. I don't make good insults but that one was good.

Her friends had to hold her back. They dragged her toward cabin five, while the other campers made way to avoid her flailing feet. I hope she doesn't come back soon because I really don't know what happened just then so I wouldn't be able to defend myself this time.

Annabeth stared at me. I couldn't tell whether she was just grossed out or angry at me for dousing her. Nope. She's planning something!

"What?" I demanded. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking," she said, "that I want you on my team for capture the flag."

Uhhh… I don't think I'm gonna like this!


	14. I Could Have Eaten That!

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or plot. Only the twists I put into the plot and my character. All the rights to the main plot and characters belong to Rick Riordan.  
**

* * *

 _ **My Dinner Goes Up In Smoke**_

Word of the bathroom incident spread immediately. Wherever I went, campers pointed at me and murmured something about toilet water. Or maybe they were just staring at Annabeth, who was still pretty much dripping wet. I really want to say sorry but I think that she'll hit me or something if I say something about it.

She showed me a few more places: the metal shop (where kids were forging their own swords), the arts-and-crafts room (where satyrs were sandblasting a giant marble statue of a goat-man; I think his name is Pan or something like that), and the climbing wall, which actually consisted of two facing walls that shook violently, dropped boulders, sprayed lava, and clashed together if you didn't get to the top fast enough. If I were her, I wouldn't of shown anyone who may or may not have caused me to be drenched in water, around camp. Maybe that means she is a forgiving person? Or she might be planning to kill me and she's acting nice so I wouldn't suspect it!

Finally we returned to the canoeing lake, where the trail led back to the cabins. The canoeing lake has got to be the best place in camp, quickly followed by the stables and then the lava wall!

"I've got training to do," Annabeth said flatly. "Dinner's at seven-thirty. Just follow your cabin to the mess hall." She is mad then! She's never gonna be happy with me now… And to think, we were progressing as well… Who am I kidding? No we weren't…

"Annabeth, I'm sorry about the toilets." There you go, blurt it out, rip off the bandage and take the punch she wants to give you like a man!

"Whatever."

"It wasn't my fault." I can't have been…

She looked at me skeptically, and I realised it was my fault. I'd made water shoot out of the bathroom fixtures. I didn't understand how. But the toilets had responded to me. I had become one with the plumbing. Plus, with what happened to Nancy, it must mean that I did it since I'm the only one around from both situations…

"You need to talk to the Oracle," Annabeth said. Who the hell is the 'Oracle'?

"Who?" I repeated myself out loud.

"Not who. What. The Oracle. I'll ask Chiron." I just met someone who's equally as annoying as Chiron when it comes to not answering my questions!

I stared into the lake, wishing somebody would give me a straight answer for once. It _was_ getting quite irritating repeating the same questions but nobody is willing to answer them!

I wasn't expecting anybody to be looking back at me from the bottom, so my heart skipped a beat when I noticed two teenage girls sitting cross-legged at the base of the pier, about twenty feet below. Who are they? They wore blue jeans and shimmering green T-shirts, and their brown hair floated loose around their shoulders as minnows darted in and out. They smiled and waved as if I were a long-lost friend. At least they're friendly. I haven't seen a lot of friendly people today… You'd think in a camp there would be nicer people but obviously there's a hierarchy in every kingdom. Or place…

I didn't know what else to do. I waved back. It might not have been the most sensible thing to do but they were being friend. Like I said, they were one of the nicest people I met today. Least I could do was wave back…

"Don't encourage them," Annabeth warned. "Naiads are terrible flirts." Why can't I wave? You jealous? Nah… Probably not. It's not like she'd ever be interested in me…

"Naiads," I repeated, feeling completely overwhelmed. "That's it. I want to go home now." I know what you are thinking: ' _Of all the things to make you want to leave, it's the_ _ **Naiads,**_ _probably one of the nicest features you've ever met and will meet'._ But I'm sorry! It all got a little bit much!

Annabeth frowned. "Don't you get it, Percy? You _are_ home. This is the only safe place on earth for kids like us." NO. My **home** is where my mom is. I want my mom back and I don't care if I have to go to the Underworld to find her. I **_will_** find her!

"You mean, mentally disturbed kids?"

"I mean _not human_. Not totally human, anyway. Half-human." She's annoyed again. When is she never _not_ annoyed with me?

"Half-human and half-what?"

"I think you know."

I didn't want to admit it, but I was afraid I did. I felt a tingling in my limbs, a sensation I sometimes felt when my mom talked about my dad. I might as well admit it.

"God," I said. "Half-god."

Annabeth nodded. "Your father isn't dead, Percy. He's one of the Olympians." Olympians? Isn't that just the Gods and Goddesses who are part of the Council? What about the minor Gods and Goddesses? What happens to their kids? What if I'm one of their kids- where would I go then?

"That's… crazy."

"Is it? What's the most common thing gods did in the old stories? They ran around falling in love with humans and having kids with them. Do you think they've changed their habits in the last few millennia?" She's lived in this world too long to think this stuff is normal! And really that's the main things Gods did? Reproduce? I thought their main job was to keep the world at peace… Well Chiron taught me the wrong stuff at school then!

"But those are just-" I almost said myths again. Then I remembered Chiron's warning that in two thousand years, I might be considered a myth. "But if all the kids here are half-gods-"

"Demigods," Annabeth said. "That's the official term. Or half-bloods." Okay. Demigods is a pretty cool name, I give you that.

"Then who's your dad?"

Her hands tightened around the pier railing. I got the feeling I'd just trespassed on a sensitive subject. Oops. Maybe her mother is her Godly parent. I'm being sexist. I shouldn't do that. Mom won't like that and neither would she. _She_ may not be a feminist but sure does like drilling new values into my head. Apparently I'll need it one day.

"My dad is a professor at West Point," she said. "I haven't seen him since I was very small. He teaches American history."

"He's human." Yep. Her mother is her Godly parent. I just annoyed her even more. Not good!

"What? You assume it has to be a male god who finds a human female attractive? How sexist is that?" Sorry! I didn't mean too. Great. I just upset her and mom and _her_ too.

"Who's your mom, then?" Hoping to appease her…

"Cabin six." Your mom is a cabin number? Hah. Just kidding… But who is cabin six? Am I supposed to know who your mother is?

"Meaning?"

Annabeth straightened. "Athena. Goddess of wisdom and battle." She's proud to be her daughter then…

Okay, I thought. Why not? Sorry if I'm sceptic but I thought Athena was a maiden goddess?

"And my dad?"

"Undetermined," Annabeth said, "like I told you before. Nobody knows." I hope I'm the first person to know then and I wish I'd know who he is soon…

"Except my mother. She knew." Dad loved mom. I may not know a lot but I know that that is **fact**.

"Maybe not, Percy. Gods don't always reveal their identities."

"My dad would have. He loved her." He did. I **know** he did.

Annabeth gave me a cautious look. She didn't want to burst my bubble. Well she can't anyway, I know he loved her. "Maybe you're right. Maybe he'll send a sign. That's the only way to know for sure: your father has to send you a sign claiming you as his son. Sometimes it happens."

"You mean sometimes it doesn't?"

Annabeth ran her palm along the rail. "The gods are busy. They have a lot of kids and they don't always ... Well, sometimes they don't care about us, Percy. They ignore us."

I thought about some of the kids I'd seen in the Hermes cabin, teenagers who looked sullen and depressed, as if they were waiting for a call that would never come. I'd known kids like that at Yancy Academy, shuffled off to boarding school by rich parents who didn't have the time to deal with them. But gods should behave better. They're Gods! They have the power to do anything and yet they can't be bothered to claim their own children? What kind of parents are they? DOn't they love their kids enough? Is my father like this?

"So I'm stuck here," I said. "That's it? For the rest of my life?"

"It depends," Annabeth said. "Some campers only stay the summer. If you're a child of Aphrodite or Demeter, you're probably not a real powerful force. The monsters might ignore you, so you can get by with a few months of summer training and live in the mortal world the rest of the year. But for some of us, it's too dangerous to leave. We're year-rounders. In the mortal world, we attract monsters. They sense us. They come to challenge us. Most of the time, they'll ignore us until we're old enough to cause trouble - about ten or eleven years old, but after that, most demigods either make their way here, or they get killed off. A few manage to survive in the outside world and become famous. Believe me, if I told you the names, you'd know them. Some don't even realize they're demigods. But very, very few are like that."

"So monsters can't get in here?"

Annabeth shook her head. "Not unless they're intentionally stocked in the woods or specially summoned by somebody on the inside."

"Why would anybody want to summon a monster?" What kind of sick jokes do they play here? Their lives are at risk and yet they choose to put it in even more danger? Mentally disturbed I tell you!

"Practice fights. Practical jokes."

"Practical jokes?" Like I said; mentally deranged!

"The point is, the borders are sealed to keep mortals and monsters out. From the outside, mortals look into the valley and see nothing unusual, just a strawberry farm." So that's why they said mom couldn't have gotten into the camp borders.

"So… you're a year-rounder?"

Annabeth nodded. From under the collar of her T-shirt she pulled a leather necklace with five clay beads of different colors. It was just like Luke's, except Annabeth's also had a big gold ring strung on it, like a college ring. What do the beads mean? Am I gonna get one? They look pretty cool…

"I've been here since I was seven," she said. "Every August, on the last day of summer session, you get a bead for surviving another year. I've been here longer than most of the counselors, and they're all in college."

"Why did you come so young?" She's been here for a long time. She says she's a year-rounder so she must not go home. Doesn't she miss her dad?

She twisted the ring on her necklace. "None of your business." I deserved that. I shouldn't have tried to pry into her personal business.

"Oh." I stood there for a minute in uncomfortable silence. "So… I could just walk out of here right now if I wanted to?"

"It would be suicide, but you could, with Mr. D's or Chiron's permission. But they wouldn't give permission until the end of the summer session unless…"

"Unless?"

"You were granted a quest. But that hardly ever happens. The last time…"

Her voice trailed off. I could tell from her tone that the last time hadn't gone well.

"Back in the sick room," I said, "when you were feeding me that stuff-"

"Ambrosia."

"Yeah. You asked me something about the summer solstice."

Annabeth's shoulders tensed. "So you _do_ know something?"

"Well... no. Back at my old school, I overheard Grover and Chiron talking about it. Grover mentioned the summer solstice. He said something like we didn't have much time, because of the deadline. What did that mean?"

She clenched her fists. "I wish I knew. Chiron and the satyrs, they know, but they won't tell me. Something is wrong in Olympus, something pretty major. Last time I was there, everything seemed so _normal._ "

"You've been to Olympus?"

"Some of us year-rounders-Luke and Clarisse and I and a few others-we took a field trip during winter solstice. That's when the gods have their big annual council."

"But... how did you get there?" Chiron said Olympus moves with the Western Civilisation so it's here in America but _where_ is it?

"The Long Island Railroad, of course. You get off at Penn Station. Empire State Building, special elevator to the six hundredth floor." She looked at me like she was sure I must know this already. "You _are_ a New Yorker, right?" Six hundredth floor?

"Oh, sure." As far as I knew, there were only a hundred and two floors in the Empire State Building, but I decided not to point that out. She _was_ a daughter of Athena so I'm sure that she wouldn't want me point the obvious out to her.

"Right after we visited," Annabeth continued, "the weather got weird, as if the gods had started fighting. A couple of times since, I've overheard satyrs talking. The best I can figure out is that something important was stolen. And if it isn't returned by summer solstice, there's going to be trouble. When you came, I was hoping _…_ I mean- Athena can get along with just about anybody, except for Ares. And of course she's got the rivalry with Poseidon. But, I mean, aside from that, I thought we could work together. I thought you might know something." So it was the gods controlling the weather all this time? What's got them so riled up that they're making the weather violent?

I shook my head. I wished I could help her, but I felt too hungry and tired and mentally overloaded to ask any more questions.

"I've got to get a quest," Annabeth muttered to herself. "I'm _not_ too young. If they would just tell me the problem ..."

I could smell barbecue smoke coming from somewhere nearby. Annabeth must've heard my stomach growl. She told me to go on, she'd catch me later. I left her on the pier, tracing her finger across the rail as if drawing a battle plan. She truly is a daughter of Athena isn't she.


	15. I Could Have Eaten That! Part II

Back at cabin eleven, everybody was talking and horsing around, waiting for dinner. For the first time, I noticed that a lot of the campers had similar features: sharp noses, upturned eyebrows, mischievous smiles. They were the kind of kids that teachers would peg as troublemakers. So they all must come from the same parent. Hermes _is_ the God of pranks so all of the troublemakers must be his kids. Unfortunately it made it easier to tell which kids were unclaimed by their absent parents. Thankfully, nobody paid much attention to me as I walked over to my spot on the floor and plopped down with my minotaur horn.

The counselor, Luke, came over. He had the Hermes family resemblance, too. It was marred by that scar on his right cheek, but his smile was intact. Despite the scar, at least he's is happy how he is and the life he lives.

"Found you a sleeping bag," he said. "And here, I stole you some toiletries from the camp store."

I couldn't tell if he was kidding about the stealing part. It's probably true since his dad is the God of thieves as well.

I said, "Thanks."

"No prob." Luke sat next to me, pushed his back against the wall. "Tough first day?"

"I don't belong here," I said. "I don't even believe in gods." I sorta do now that I know my dad is one but he didn't need to know…

"Yeah," he said. "That's how we all started. Once you start believing in them? It doesn't get any easier."

Great. My life is still gonna get harder? But something surprised me, it was the bitterness in his voice, because Luke seemed like a pretty easygoing guy. He looked like he could handle just about anything.

"So your dad is Hermes?" I asked.

He pulled a switchblade out of his back pocket, and for a second I thought he was going to gut me, but he just scraped the mud off the sole of his sandal. "Yeah. Hermes." Like I said, he seemed like a good guy so I doubt he'd even think of hurting anyone, especially me since I'm new and I haven't done anything to offend the guy. Yet.

"The wing-footed messenger guy."

"That's him. Messengers. Medicine. Travelers, merchants, thieves. Anybody who uses the roads. That's why you're here, enjoying cabin eleven's hospitality. Hermes isn't picky about who he sponsors."

He must be one of the cooler and calmer gods then. I figured Luke didn't mean to call me a nobody. He just had a lot on his mind.

"You ever meet your dad?" I asked.

"Once."

I waited, thinking that if he wanted to tell me, he'd tell me. Apparently, he didn't. I wondered if the story had anything to do with how he got his scar. I really need to stop bring into other people's business…

Luke looked up and managed a smile. "Don't worry about it, Percy. The campers here, they're mostly good peo-ple. After all, we're extended family, right? We take care of each other."

He seemed to understand how lost I felt, and I was grateful for that, because an older guy like him - even if he was a counsellor - should've steered clear of an uncool middle-schooler like me. But Luke had welcomed me into the cabin. He'd even stolen me some toiletries, which was the nicest thing anybody had done for me all day.

I decided to ask him my last big question, the one that had been bothering me all afternoon. "Clarisse, from Ares, was joking about me being 'Big Three' material. Then Annabeth… twice, she said I might be 'the one.' She said I should talk to the Oracle. What was that all about?"

Luke folded his knife. "I hate prophecies." What has that got to do with anything?

"What do you mean?"

His face twitched around the scar. "Let's just say I messed things up for everybody else. The last two years, ever since my trip to the Garden of the Hesperides went sour, Chiron hasn't allowed any more quests. Annabeth's been dying to get out into the world. She pestered Chiron so much he finally told her he already knew her fate. He'd had a prophecy from the Oracle. He wouldn't tell her the whole thing, but he said Annabeth wasn't destined to go on a quest yet. She had to wait until... somebody special came to the camp."

"Somebody special?"

"Don't worry about it, kid," Luke said. "Annabeth wants to think every new camper who comes through here is the omen she's been waiting for. Now, come on, it's dinnertime."

The moment he said it, a horn blew in the distance. Somehow, I knew it was a conch shell, even though I'd never heard one before. How did I know that? Conch shell. Wave. Toilets. The cabin. Could I be… I couldn't possibly be… No. Mom may have told me I'm special but I'm not _that_ special.

Luke yelled, "Eleven, fall in!"

The whole cabin, about twenty of us, filed into the commons yard. We lined up in order of seniority, so of course I was dead last. Campers came from the other cabins, too, except for the three empty cabins at the end, and cabin eight, which had looked normal in the daytime, but was now starting to glow silver as the sun went down. So no one inhabits cabins one, two, three or eight. Cabin one is Zeus, cabin two is Hera whilst cabin three is Poseidon and cabin eight - from the silver glow - I'll assume it is Artemis' cabin.

We marched up the hill to the mess hall pavilion. Satyrs joined us from the meadow. Satyrs, half-human, half-goat, got it. Naiads emerged from the canoeing lake. Naiads are water spirits. A few other girls came out of the woods - and when I say out of the woods, I mean _straight_ out of the woods. They must be wood nymphs, tree spirits… I saw one girl, about nine or ten years old, melt from the side of a maple tree and come skipping up the hill.

In all, there were maybe a hundred campers, a few dozen satyrs, and a dozen assorted wood nymphs and naiads. That

At the pavilion, torches blazed around the marble columns. A central fire burned in a bronze brazier the size of a bathtub. Each cabin had its own table, covered in white cloth trimmed in purple. Four of the tables were empty, but cabin eleven's was way overcrowded. I had to squeeze on to the edge of a bench with half my butt hanging off. You can tell all the unclaimed children are here by the vast amount of demigods here at this one table. Forget about love, surely the gods must know how uncomfortable it is to eat on this one table, nevertheless sleep altogether in the one Hermes cabin!

I saw Grover sitting at table twelve with Mr. D, a few satyrs, and a couple of plump blond boys who looked just like Mr. D. Chiron stood to one side, the picnic table being way too small for a centaur. So they must be his kids. I wonder if he favours them or if he ignores and belittles them like he does the rest of the half-bloods.

Annabeth sat at table six with a bunch of serious-looking athletic kids, all with her gray eyes and honey-blond hair.

Clarisse sat behind me at Ares's table. She'd apparently gotten over being hosed down, because she was laughing and belching right alongside her friends. At least _she_ fits in somewhere.

Finally, Chiron pounded his hoof against the marble floor of the pavilion, and everybody fell silent. He raised a glass. "To the gods!"

Everybody else raised their glasses. "To the gods!"

Wood nymphs came forward with platters of food: grapes, apples, strawberries, cheese, fresh bread, and yes, barbecue! My glass was empty, but Luke said, "Speak to it. Whatever you want-nonalcoholic, of course."You want me to speak to a cup? An inanimate object? It isn't going to talk back is it?

I said, "Cherry Coke." Huh. It worked. Who would have thought?

The glass filled with sparkling caramel liquid. Then I had an idea. " _Blue_ Cherry Coke."

The soda turned a violent shade of cobalt.

I took a cautious sip. **_Perfect._**

I drank a toast to my mother.

I miss you mom.

She's not gone, I told myself. Not permanently, anyway. She's in the Underworld. And if that's a real place, then someday... I'll get you back. I promise.

"Here you go, Percy," Luke said, handing me a platter of smoked brisket. Ooooh! Yummy…

I loaded my plate and was about to take a big bite when I noticed everybody getting up, carrying their plates toward the fire in the center of the pavilion. I wondered if they were going for dessert or something. I know I must sound like a food-obsessed guy but I haven't eaten since I was at Monta— Mom… My lower quivered in sorrow in the memory of my mother.

"Come on," Luke told me. I shook myself from my reverie and followed after him.

As I got closer, I saw that everyone was taking a portion of their meal and dropping it into the fire, the ripest strawberry, the juiciest slice of beef, the warmest, most buttery roll. Why are they doing that?

Luke murmured in my ear, "Burnt offerings for the gods. They like the smell." Oh. Okay…

"You're kidding."

His look warned me not to take this lightly, but I couldn't help wondering why an immortal, all-powerful being would like the smell of burning food. It's not like they can live off of it… Can they?

Luke approached the fire, bowed his head, and tossed in a cluster of fat red grapes. "Hermes."

I was next.

I wished I knew what god's name to say.

Finally, I made a silent plea. _Whoever you are, tell me. Please._

I almost considered saying, _If you love me, you'd claim me_ but after the many months of having her in my head, I learnt that everything happens at its own pace and it is destiny that decides what happens to us.

I scraped a big slice of brisket into the flames. When I caught a whiff of the smoke, I didn't gag.

It smelled nothing like burning food. It smelled of hot chocolate and fresh-baked brownies, hamburgers on the grill and wildflowers, and a hundred other good things that shouldn't have gone well together, but did. I could almost believe the gods could live off that smoke. I wonder if they actually can? If I ever meet one I'll ask them. I better not ask Mr. D he'll just get annoyed and be sarcastic. I'll ask Lady Hestia later if I find when I go say hello to her.

When everybody had returned to their seats and finished eating their meals, Chiron pounded his hoof again for our attention.

Mr. D got up with a huge sigh. "Yes, I suppose I'd better say hello to all you brats. Well, hello. Our activities director, Chiron, says the next capture the flag is Friday. Cabin five presently holds the laurels."

A bunch of ugly cheering rose from the Ares table. Better remember this stuff… Cabin five is Ares.

"Personally," Mr. D continued, "I couldn't care less, but congratulations. Also, I should tell you that we have a new camper today. Peter Johnson."

Chiron murmured something. Does he get everybody's name wrong or was he doing it just to me because eI annoyed him earlier?

"Er, Percy Jackson," Mr. D corrected. "That's right. Hurrah, and all that. Now run along to your silly campfire. Go on."

Everybody cheered. We all headed down toward the amphitheater, where Apollo's cabin led a sing-along. We sang camp songs about the gods and ate s'mores and joked around, and the funny thing was, I didn't feel that anyone was staring at me anymore. I felt that I was home. She was right after all; this was always going to be my home.

Later in the evening, when the sparks from the campfire were curling into a starry sky, the conch horn blew again, and we all filed back to our cabins. I didn't realize how exhausted I was until I collapsed on my borrowed sleeping bag. I didn't even get to say hello to Lady Hestia. I better do that tomorrow then…

My fingers curled around the Minotaur's horn. I thought about my mom, but I had good thoughts: her smile, the bedtime stories she would read me when I was a kid, the way she would tell me not to let the bedbugs bite.

When I closed my eyes, I fell asleep instantly.

That was my first day at Camp Half-Blood.

I wish I'd known how briefly I would get to enjoy my new home.


	16. I Got Beat Up & Did The Beating Up

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or plot. Only the twists I put into the plot and my character. All the rights to the main plot and characters belong to Rick Riordan.**

* * *

 _ **We Capture A Flag**_

I had seen Lady Hestia for a brief moment the morning I woke up, she was nice and at the moment the best god or goddess in the world! She is very kind and warm. The next few days after that, I settled into a routine that felt almost normal, if you don't count the fact that I was getting lessons from satyrs, nymphs, and a centaur.

Each morning I took Ancient Greek from Annabeth, and we talked about the gods and goddesses in the present tense, which was kind of weird. I discovered Annabeth was right about my dyslexia: Ancient Greek wasn't that hard for me to read. At least, no harder than English. After a couple of mornings, I could stumble through a few lines of Homer without too much headache. So I gotta say, Annabeth is a miracle since I hadn't read part of a book in years and now I can read part of the Homer is impressive so she's the best teacher I know - Chiron doesn't count.

The rest of the day, I'd rotate through outdoor activities, looking for something I was good at. Chiron tried to teach me archery, but we found out pretty quick I wasn't any good with a bow and arrow. He didn't complain, even when he had to desnag a stray arrow out of his tail. So that rules Apollo out then…

Foot racing? No good either. So I think that rules Hermes out… The wood-nymph instructors left me in the dust. But come on, I'd like to see someone outrun them. If they do I'll give them my minotaur horn. But they told me not to worry about it. They'd had centuries of practice running away from lovesick gods. But still, it was a little humiliating to be slower than a tree. On the positive side, everyone is slower than the tree!

And wrestling? Forget it. Every time I got on the mat, Clarisse would pulverise me.

"There's more where that came from, punk," she'd mumble in my ear. So that obviously rules Ares out. Other than losing at wrestling, I'm pretty sure siblings don't hate (more like dislike) each other as much as Clarisse and I do.

The only thing I really excelled at was canoeing, and that wasn't the kind of heroic skill people expected to see from the kid who had beaten the Minotaur. Is that another clue that _he_ was my father? I may have taken down the minotaur but a child of the Big Three? Not likely!

I knew the senior campers and counselors were watching me, trying to decide who my dad was, but they weren't having an easy time of it. I wasn't as strong as the Ares kids, or as good at archery as the Apollo kids. I didn't have Hephaestus's skill with metalwork or-gods forbid- Dionysus's way with vine plants. Luke told me I might be a child of Hermes, a kind of jack-of-all-trades, master of none. But I got the feeling he was just trying to make me feel better. He really didn't know what to make of me either.

Despite all that, I liked camp. I got used to the morning fog over the beach, I loved it there the most, the smell of hot strawberry fields in the afternoon, even the weird noises of monsters in the woods at night. I would eat dinner with cabin eleven, scrape part of my meal into the fire, and try to feel some connection to my real dad. Nothing came. Not that I expected one. If he left us with Gabe then surely he must not have cared for us! Just that warm feeling I'd always had, like the memory of his smile. I tried not to think too much about my mom, but I kept wondering: if gods and monsters were real, if all this magical stuff was possible, surely there was some way to save her, to bring her back…

I started to understand Luke's bitterness and how he seemed to resent his father, Hermes. So okay, maybe gods had important things to do. But couldn't they call once in a while, or thunder, or something? Dionysus could make Diet Coke appear out of thin air. Why couldn't my dad, whoever he was, make a phone appear?

They have the power to do so but they don't… If I had the power to change something in this world, it would be to let all demigods know who their parents are and to be accepted no matter who they are!

Thursday afternoon, three days after I'd arrived at Camp Half-Blood, I had my first sword-fighting lesson. Everybody from cabin eleven gathered in the big circular arena, where Luke would be our instructor. Is every demigod who is head councillor the one in charge of the sessions or the most skilled? I better ask that later and pay attention…

We started with basic stabbing and slashing, using some straw-stuffed dummies in Greek armor. I guess I did okay. At least, I understood what I was supposed to do and my reflexes were good. That's good right?

The problem was, I couldn't find a blade that felt right in my hands. Either they were too heavy, or too light, or too long. Luke tried his best to fix me up, but he agreed that none of the practice blades seemed to work for me. That's definitely bad thing…

We moved on to dueling in pairs. Luke announced he would be my partner, since this was my first time.

"Good luck," one of the campers told me. "Luke's the best swordsman in the last three hundred years."

"Maybe he'll go easy on me," I said.

The camper snorted. That was Connor Stole. Nice guy. Mischievous. Definitely a son of Hermes. He had an older brother, definitely an older brother, despite them looking like twins, they aren't.

Luke showed me thrusts and parries and shield blocks the hard way. With every swipe, I got a little more battered and bruised. Does he hate me or something? Nah. "Keep your guard up, Percy," he'd say, then whap me in the ribs with the flat of his blade. "No, not that far up!" _Whap!_ "Lunge!" _Whap!_ "Now, back!" _Whap!_

By the time he called a break, I was soaked in sweat. It was disgusting but you can't avoid it after all this work… Everybody swarmed the drinks cooler. Luke poured ice water on his head, which looked like such a good idea, I did the same.

Instantly, I felt better. Strength surged back into my arms. The sword didn't feel so awkward.

"Okay, everybody circle up!" Luke ordered. "If Percy doesn't mind, I want to give you a little demo."

Great, I thought. Let's all watch Percy get pounded. Fate must really hate me…

The Hermes guys gathered around. They were suppressing smiles. I figured they'd been in my shoes before and couldn't wait to see how Luke used me for a punching bag. He told everybody he was going to demonstrate a disarming technique: how to twist the enemy's blade with the flat of your own sword so that he had no choice but to drop his weapon. It _is_ a hard manoeuvre. But I think I got the gist of it…

"This is difficult," he stressed. "I've had it used against me. No laughing at Percy, now. Most swordsmen have to work years to master this technique." Great. I am so gonna get owned here…

He demonstrated the move on me in slow motion. Sure enough, the sword clattered out of my hand.

"Now in real time," he said, after I'd retrieved my weapon. "We keep sparring until one of us pulls it off. Ready, Percy?"

I nodded, and Luke came after me. Somehow, I kept him from getting a shot at the hilt of my sword. My senses opened up. I saw his attacks coming. I countered. I stepped forward and tried a thrust of my own. Luke deflected it easily, but I saw a change in his face. His eyes narrowed, and he started to press me with more force.

The sword grew heavy in my hand. The balance wasn't right. I knew it was only a matter of seconds before Luke took me down, so I figured, What the heck?

I tried the disarming manoeuvre. Hope this works and I don't trip or they'll laugh…

My blade hit the base of Luke's and I twisted, putting my whole weight into a downward thrust.

 _Clang._ Huh. It worked. Oh my gods, it actually worked!

Luke's sword rattled against the stones. The tip of my blade was an inch from his undefended chest.

The other campers were silent.

I lowered my sword. "Um, sorry." Sorry? I'm such a retard! Plus, I don't think I was supposed to do that… I don't think I did it right…

For a moment, Luke was too stunned to speak. Probably annoyed by how stupid I am or something…

"Sorry?" His scarred face broke into a grin. "By the gods, Percy, why are you sorry? Show me that again!"

I didn't want to. The short burst of manic energy had completely abandoned me. But Luke insisted.

This time, there was no contest. The moment our swords connected, Luke hit my hilt and sent my weapon skidding across the floor.

After a long pause, somebody in the audience said, "Beginner's luck?"

Luke wiped the sweat off his brow. He appraised at me with an entirely new interest. "Maybe," he said. "But I wonder what Percy could do with a balanced sword…"

Not a lot probably…

Friday afternoon, I was sitting with Grover at the lake, resting from a near-death experience on the climbing wall. Grover had scampered to the top like a mountain goat, but the lava had almost gotten me. My shirt had smoking holes in it. The hairs had been singed off my forearms. Despite it being dangerous, it was _so much fun!_ I wanted to do it again but Grover wouldn't let me and he hasn't left my side since. I'm pretty sure that if I even go near the wall again for a while, Grover would drag me back kicking and screaming!

We sat on the pier, watching the naiads do underwater basket-weaving, until I got up the nerve to ask Grover how his conversation had gone with Mr. D.

His face turned a sickly shade of yellow. If his face turn yellow when he's sick what colour is his blood? Our face turns green and/or white when we look ill and we are red blooded so what's his blood colour? Hmmmm…

"Fine," he said. "Just great."

"So your career's still on track?"

He glanced at me nervously. "Chiron t-told you I want a searcher's license?" What's a searcher's license?

"Well... no." I had no idea what a searcher's license was, but it didn't seem like the right time to ask. "He just said you had big plans, you know… and that you needed credit for completing a keeper's assignment. So did you get it?"

Grover looked down at the naiads. "Mr. D suspended judgment. He said I hadn't failed or succeeded with you yet, so our fates were still tied together. If you got a quest and I went along to protect you, and we both came back alive, then maybe he'd consider the job complete."

My spirits lifted. "Well, that's not so bad, right?" But am I _really_ gonna get a quest? Yeah. Not likely…

"Blaa-ha-ha! He might as well have transferred me to stable-cleaning duty. The chances of you getting a quest... and even if you did, why would you want _me_ along?" We are on the same wavelength G-man, huh, I like that name…

"Of course I'd want you along!"

Grover stared glumly into the water. "Basket-weaving… Must be nice to have a useful skill."

I tried to reassure him that he had lots of talents, but that just made him look more miserable. We talked about canoeing and swordplay for a while, then debated the pros and cons of the different gods. Finally, I asked him about the four empty cabins.

"Number eight, the silver one, belongs to Artemis," he said. "She vowed to be a maiden forever. So of course, no kids. The cabin is, you know, honorary. If she didn't have one, she'd be mad." I knew that. Well I guessed it. It's nice to know I got it right…

"Yeah, okay. But the other three, the ones at the end. Are those the Big Three?" I guessed that already…

Grover tensed. We were getting close to a touchy subject. "No. One of them, number two, is Hera's," he said. "That's another honorary thing. She's the goddess of marriage, so of course she wouldn't go around having affairs with mortals. That's her husband's job. When we say the Big Three, we mean the three powerful brothers, the sons of Kronos."

"Zeus, Poseidon, Hades." At least I knew some stuff and not running into this world taken and blind…

"Right. You know. After the great battle with the Titans, they took over the world from their dad and drew lots to decide who got what."

"Zeus got the sky," I remembered. "Poseidon the sea, Hades the Underworld."

"Uh-huh."

"But Hades doesn't have a cabin here." He's an Olympian as well right. H's one of the most powerful gods. Surely he's respected so why doesn't he have a cabin. He may not be on the Olympian Council but he deserves respect too, after all he helped get rid of Kronos so he must be good…

"No. He doesn't have a throne on Olympus, either. He sort of does his own thing down in the Underworld. If he did have a cabin here ..." Grover shuddered. "Well, it wouldn't be pleasant. Let's leave it at that." So Hades isn't as respected then…

"But Zeus and Poseidon-they both had, like, a bazillion kids in the myths. Why are their cabins empty?" Maybe not a bazillion but Grover will know what I mean right?

Grover shifted his hooves uncomfortably. "About sixty years ago, after World War II, the Big Three agreed they wouldn't sire any more heroes. Their children were just too powerful. They were affecting the course of human events too much, causing too much carnage. World War II, you know, that was basically a fight between the sons of Zeus and Poseidon on one side, and the sons of Hades on the other. The winning side, Zeus and Poseidon, made Hades swear an oath with them: no more affairs with mortal women. They all swore on the River Styx."

Thunder boomed.

Is that the Gods again? They really need to calm down or they are gonna break the world with their rapid changing of emotion!

I said, "That's the most serious oath you can make." Grover nodded.

"And the brothers kept their word-no kids?"

Grover's face darkened. "Seventeen years ago, Zeus fell off the wagon. There was this TV starlet with a big fluffy eighties hairdo - he just couldn't help himself. When their child was born, a little girl named Thalia… well, the River Styx is serious about promises. Zeus himself got off easy because he's immortal, but he brought a terrible fate on his daughter."

"But that isn't fair! It wasn't the little girl's fault."

Grover hesitated. "Percy, children of the Big Three have powers greater than other half-bloods. They have a strong aura, a scent that attracts monsters. When Hades found out about the girl, he wasn't too happy about Zeus breaking his oath. Hades let the worst monsters out of Tartarus to tor-ment Thalia. A satyr was assigned to be her keeper when she was twelve, but there was nothing he could do. He tried to escort her here with a couple of other half-bloods she'd befriended. They almost made it. They got all the way to the top of that hill."

He pointed across the valley, to the pine tree where I'd fought the minotaur. "All three Kindly Ones were after them, along with a horde of hellhounds. They were about to be overrun when Thalia told her satyr to take the other two half-bloods to safety while she held off the monsters. She was wounded and tired, and she didn't want to live like a hunted animal. The satyr didn't want to leave her, but he couldn't change her mind, and he had to protect the others. So Thalia made her final stand alone, at the top of that hill. As she died, Zeus took pity on her. He turned her into that pine tree. Her spirit still helps protect the borders of the valley. That's why the hill is called Half-Blood Hill."

I stared at the pine in the distance.

The story made me feel hollow, and guilty too. A girl my age had sacrificed herself to save her friends. She had faced a whole army of monsters. Next to that, my victory over the Minotaur didn't seem like much. I wondered, if I'd acted differently, could I have saved my mother? I know I would have done things exactly the same as Thalia. She has got to be the best demigod I know. Forget Luke's sword fighting skills and Annabeth's supreme intelligence. Thalia is the best out of all demigods because she sacrificed her own life.

"Grover," I said, "have heroes really gone on quests to the Underworld?"

"Sometimes," he said. "Orpheus. Hercules. Houdini."

"And have they ever returned somebody from the dead?"

"No. Never. Orpheus came close… Percy, you're not seriously thinking-"

"No," I lied. Of course not. No one would ever be _that_ stupid… "I was just wondering. So… a satyr is always assigned to guard a demigod?"

Grover studied me warily. I hadn't persuaded him that I'd really dropped the Underworld idea. Probably because I hadn't! It's nice to know that he knows me quite well! "Not always. We go undercover to a lot of schools. We try to sniff out the half-bloods who have the makings of great heroes. If we find one with a very strong aura, like a child of the Big Three, we alert Chiron. He tries to keep an eye on them, since they could cause really huge problems."

"And you found me. Chiron said you thought I might be something special." I **am** special. I am mentally deranged after all!

Grover looked as if I'd just led him into a trap. "I didn't... Oh, listen, don't think like that. If you were-you know-you'd never ever be allowed a quest, and I'd never get my license. You're probably a child of Hermes. Or maybe even one of the minor gods, like Nemesis, the god of revenge. Don't worry, okay?"

I got the idea he was reassuring himself more than me.


	17. I Got Beat Up & Did The Beating Up II

That night after dinner, there was a lot more excitement than usual. I bet you can guess why?

At last, it was time for capture the flag. If you guessed that then **you** are correct!

When the plates were cleared away, the conch horn sounded and we all stood at our tables.

Campers yelled and cheered as Annabeth and two of her siblings ran into the pavilion carrying a silk banner. It was about ten feet long, glistening gray, with a painting of a barn owl above an olive tree. From the opposite side of the pavilion, Clarisse and her buddies ran in with another banner, of identical size, but gaudy red, painted with a bloody spear and a boar's head.

Hah. It's quite funny really… Not the flags or the demigods themselves. Okay it was about the demigods. Don't you think it is funny that the head councillor of Athena is twelve and for Ares is like 15/16? And yet they're even? No. Okay. Just me then…

I turned to Luke and yelled over the noise, "Those are the flags?" Uh. Duh. Percy.

"Yeah."

"Ares and Athena always lead the teams?"

"Not always," he said. "But often." Well, that's not fair. Why don't they let the cabins who _aren't_ represented by the God and Goddess of War and Battle Strategy.

"So, if another cabin captures one, what do you do-repaint the flag?" He grinned. "You'll see. First we have to get one."

"Whose side are we on?"

He gave me a sly look, as if he knew something I didn't. The scar on his face made him look almost evil in the torchlight. But Luke wouldn't go evil. He's one of the nicest demigods I know! "We've made a temporary alliance with Athena. Tonight, we get the flag from Ares. And you are going to help."

The teams were announced. Athena had made an alliance with Apollo and Hermes, the two biggest cabins. So if Apollo and Hermes has the largest cabins, that must mean that they must be players and have frequent lovers… Apparently, privileges had been traded-shower times, chore schedules, the best slots for activities-in order to win support.

Ares had allied themselves with everybody else: Dionysus, Demeter, Aphrodite, and Hephaestus. From what I'd seen, Dionysus's kids were actually good athletes, but there were only two of them. Demeter's kids had the edge with nature skills and outdoor stuff but they weren't very aggressive. It must be the mother earth side of them, being nature lovers made them peaceful people… Aphrodite's sons and daughters I wasn't too worried about. They mostly sat out every activity and checked their reflections in the lake and did their hair and gossiped. I'm sure one day they'll fight for real. They hide behind their beauty, it could be deceiving - they're demigods for a reason. Hephaestus's kids weren't pretty, and there were only four of them, but they were big and burly from working in the metal shop all day. They might be a problem. They must have taken after their dad's looks, they didn't look ugly but the weren't the most handsomest s=of demigods. However they were friendly. That, of course, left Ares's cabin: a dozen of the biggest, ugliest, meanest kids on Long Island, or anywhere else on the planet.

Chiron hammered his hoof on the marble. Doesn't that hurt?

"Heroes!" he announced. "You know the rules. The creek is the boundary line. The entire forest is fair game. All magic items are allowed. The banner must be prominently displayed, and have no more than two guards. Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged. No killing or maiming is allowed. I will serve as referee and battlefield medic. Arm yourselves!"

He spread his hands, and the tables were suddenly covered with equipment: helmets, bronze swords, spears, oxhide shields coated in metal.

"Whoa," I said. "We're really supposed to use these?" They look _really_ sharp!

Luke looked at me as if I were crazy. "Unless you want to get skewered by your friends in cabin five. Here - Chiron thought these would fit. You'll be on border patrol."

My shield was the size of an NBA backboard, with a big caduceus in the middle. It weighed about a million pounds. I could have snowboarded on it fine, but I hoped nobody seriously expected me to run fast. My helmet, like all the helmets on Athena's side, had a blue horsehair plume on top. Ares and their allies had red plumes.

Annabeth yelled, "Blue team, forward!"

We cheered and shook our swords and followed her down the path to the south woods. The red team yelled taunts at us as they headed off toward the north.

I managed to catch up with Annabeth without tripping over my equipment. "Hey."

She kept marching. Okay. She is definitely angry at me for something! What did I do this time?

"So what's the plan?" I asked. "Got any magic items you can loan me?"

Her hand drifted toward her pocket, as if she were afraid I'd stolen something. I'm not a son of Hermes! Well I don't think I am. There's far **too** many signs that I'm you-know-who's son so I don't think I am plus I can't even steal pizza from Gabe so I doubt it!

"Just watch Clarisse's spear," she said. "You don't want that thing touching you. Otherwise, don't worry. We'll take the banner from Ares. Has Luke given you your job?"

"Border patrol, whatever that means."

"It's easy. Stand by the creek, keep the reds away. Leave the rest to me. Athena always has a plan." She pushed ahead, leaving me in the dust.

"Okay," I mumbled. "Glad you wanted me on your team." She just warms you up every time you talk to her doesn't she?

It was a warm, sticky night. The woods were dark, with fireflies popping in and out of view. Annabeth stationed me next to a little creek that gurgled over some rocks, then she and the rest of the team scattered into the trees. Does she know? Does she suspect or is this just pure coincidence?

Standing there alone, with my big blue-feathered helmet and my huge shield, I felt like an idiot. The bronze sword, like all the swords I'd tried so far, seemed balanced wrong. The leather grip pulled on my hand like a bowling ball.

There was no way anybody would actually attack me, would they? I mean, Olympus had to have liability issues, right?

Far away, the conch horn blew. I heard whoops and yells in the woods, the clanking of metal, kids fighting. A blue-plumed ally from Apollo raced past me like a deer, leaped through the creek, and disappeared into enemy territory.

Great, I thought. I'll miss all the fun, as well. At least I won't get hurt my first game!

Then I heard a sound that sent a chill up my spine, a low canine growl, somewhere close by.

I raised my shield instinctively; I had the feeling some-thing was stalking me.

Then the growling stopped. I felt the presence retreating. What was _that?_

 _Hellhound._ The wind once again whispered. What caused it to retreat?

I got my answer soon afterwards…

On the other side of the creek, the underbrush exploded. Five Ares warriors came yelling and screaming out of the dark.

"Cream the punk!" Clarisse screamed.

Her ugly pig eyes glared through the slits of her helmet. She brandished a five-foot-long spear, its barbed metal tip flickering with red light. Her siblings had only the standard-issue bronze swords-not that that made me feel any better.

They charged across the stream. There was no help in sight. I could run. Or I could defend myself against half the Ares cabin.

I managed to sidestep the first kid's swing, but these guys were not as stupid the Minotaur. They surrounded me, and Clarisse thrust at me with her spear. Is this even fair? Of course it's not Percy, I mentally scolded myself, pay attention. My shield deflected the point, but I felt a painful tingling all over my body. My hair stood on end. My shield arm went numb, and the air burned. Maybe I shouldn't have paid attention! I'm pretty sure the pain wouldn't be this bad if I wasn't paying any attention to it…

Electricity. Her stupid spear was electric. That's what Princ-Annabeth meant by watch her spear. I fell back.

Another Ares guy slammed me in the chest with the butt of his sword and I hit the dirt.

They could've kicked me into jelly, but they were too busy laughing. See what I mean. These guys are mean!

"Give him a haircut," Clarisse said. "Grab his hair." Not my hair, this is the one of the only things I have of my dad's!

I hate bullies! I refuse to be pushed around! I managed to get to my feet. I raised my sword, but Clarisse slammed it aside with her spear as sparks flew. Now both my arms felt numb. I hate that…

"Oh, wow," Clarisse said. "I'm scared of this guy. Really scared."

"The flag is that way," I told her. I wanted to sound angry, but I was afraid it didn't come out that way. It probably sounded pathetic! But don't worry, I obviously didn't tell the right direction. I may be stupid but I'm not _that_ stupid!

"Yeah," one of her siblings said. "But see, we don't care about the flag. We care about a guy who made our cabin look stupid." Oh okay. So I sounded like a traitor and a wimp for nothing… Great!

"You do that without my help," I told them. It probably wasn't the smartest thing to say. I don't make very smart comments or do the smartest of actions anyway…

Two of them came at me. I backed up toward the creek, tried to raise my shield, but Clarisse was too fast. Her spear stuck me straight in the ribs. If I hadn't been wearing an armored breastplate, I would've been shish-ke-babbed. As it was, the electric point just about shocked my teeth out of my mouth. One of her cabinmates slashed his sword across my arm, leaving a good-size cut. Can you stop shocking me? Both my arms are numb! Isn't that enough yet?

Seeing my own blood made me dizzy-warm and cold at the same time.

"No maiming," I managed to say. **DO** they know when to stop? No wonder these guys aren't liked that much!

"Oops," the guy said. "Guess I lost my dessert privilege." I can't believe the only sanction they get for maiming is losing their dessert privilege! Can't they wash the toilets or something?

He pushed me into the creek and I landed with a splash. They all laughed. Jokes on them. If the session with Luke is anything to go by, I'll… But then something happened. The water seemed to wake up my senses, as if I'd just had a bag of my mom's double-espresso jelly beans. So I am right! I **am** the Son of Poseidon…

Clarisse and her cabinmates came into the creek to get me, but I stood to meet them. I knew what to do. I swung the flat of my sword against the first guy's head and knocked his helmet clean off. I hit him so hard I could see his eyes vibrating as he crumpled into the water. Take that. I was tempted to stick my tongue at him but I was a bit busy…

Ugly Number Two and Ugly Number Three came at me. I slammed one in the face with my shield and used my sword to shear off the other guy's horsehair plume. Both of them backed up quick. Ugly Number Four didn't look really anxious to attack, but Clarisse kept coming, the point of her spear crackling with energy. As soon as she thrust, I caught the shaft between the edge of my shield and my sword, and I snapped it like a twig. Finally. No more stings. I hope I never have to feel the sting of electricity again…

"Ah!" she screamed. "You idiot! You corpse-breath worm!" I am a sea-breath worm. I;m not a son of Hades after all, I am a child of the sea…

She probably would've said worse, but I smacked her between the eyes with my sword-butt and sent her stumbling backward out of the creek. How's that feel now? Doesn't feel good does it?

Then I heard yelling, elated screams, and I saw Luke racing toward the boundary line with the red team's banner lifted high. He was flanked by a couple of Hermes guys covering his retreat, and a few Apollos behind them, fighting off the Hephaestus kids. The Ares folks got up, and Clarisse muttered a dazed curse.

"A trick!" she shouted. "It was a trick." I thought you guys said you didn't want the flag anyway?

They staggered after Luke, but it was too late. Everybody converged on the creek as Luke ran across into friendly territory. Our side exploded into cheers. The red banner shimmered and turned to silver. The boar and spear were replaced with a huge caduceus, the symbol of cabin eleven. Everybody on the blue team picked up Luke and started carrying him around on their shoulders. At least there were loads of people because I don't think I could carry a nineteen year old boy unless I had the help of at least four other kids! Chiron cantered out from the woods and blew the conch horn.

The game was over. We'd won.

I was about to join the celebration when Annabeth's voice, right next to me in the creek, said, "Not bad, hero."

I looked, but she wasn't there.

"Where the heck did you learn to fight like that?" she asked. The air shimmered, and she materialized, holding a Yankees baseball cap as if she'd just taken it off her head. So she _did_ have a magical item after all!

What am I talking about?

I felt myself getting angry. I wasn't even fazed by the fact that she'd just been invisible. Just a little. "You set me up," I said. "You put me here because you knew Clarisse would come after me, while you sent Luke around the flank. You had it all figured out."

Annabeth shrugged. "I told you. Athena always, always has a plan."

"A plan to get me pulverised."

"I came as fast as I could. I was about to jump in, but…" She shrugged. "You didn't need help."

Thanks for the compliment and the lack of help but I am _still_ angry!

Then she noticed my wounded arm. "How did you do that?"

"Sword cut," I said. "What do you think?"

"No. It was a sword cut. Look at it."

The blood was gone. Where the huge cut had been, there was a long white scratch, and even that was fading. As I watched, it turned into a small scar, and disappeared. Must be one of my powers as the son of Poseidon. I can heal myself and reenergise myself. I wonder what else I could do…

"I-I don't get it," I said feigned disbelief.

Annabeth was thinking hard. I could almost see the gears turning. She looked down at my feet, then at Clarisse's broken spear, and said, "Step out of the water, Percy."

"What-" She figured that out quite quickly…

"Just do it."

I came out of the creek and immediately felt bone tired. My arms started to go numb again. My adrenaline rush left me. I almost fell over, but Annabeth steadied me. Thanks princess. You finally helped me!

"Oh, Styx," she cursed. "This is _not_ good. I didn't want… I assumed it would be Zeus... ."

Before I could ask what she meant, I heard that canine growl again, but much closer than before. A howl ripped through the forest. Is it the hellhound again?

The campers' cheering died instantly. _Protect him._ The wind whispered again. I quickly spun around as Chiron shouted something in Ancient Greek, which I would realize, only later, I had understood perfectly: _"Stand ready! My bow!"_

Annabeth drew her sword.

There on the rocks just above us was a black hound the size of a rhino, with lava-red eyes and fangs like daggers.

It was looking straight at me.

And the only thing I could think of was that the hellhound was ugly as hell or Hades as some people may say. Not the god Hades, the place…

Nobody moved except Annabeth, who yelled, "Percy, run!" I really should have paid attention!

She tried to step in front of me, but the hound was too fast. It leaped over her - an enormous shadow with teeth - and just as it hit me, as I stumbled backward and felt its razor-sharp claws ripping through my armor, there was a cascade of thwacking sounds, like forty pieces of paper being ripped one after the other. From the hounds neck sprouted a cluster of arrows. The monster fell dead at my feet. Couldn't you have done that sooner so there's one less injured person here?

By some miracle, I was still alive. Yay! I didn't want to look underneath the ruins of my shredded armor. My chest felt warm and wet, and I knew I was badly cut. Another second, and the monster would've turned me into a hundred pounds of delicatessen meat.

Chiron trotted up next to us, a bow in his hand, his face grim. I hope you're grim. I'm injured. Somebody help me or leave so I can get into the water. I don't think they should know that I'm a child of the Big Three otherwise people will know dad broke the oath as well…

 _"Di immortales!"_ Annabeth said. "That's a hellhound from the Fields of Punishment. They don't… they're not supposed to…"

"Someone summoned it," Chiron said. "Someone inside the camp."

Luke came over, the banner in his hand forgotten, his moment of glory gone. Sorry buddy!

Clarisse yelled, "It's all Percy's fault! Percy summoned it!" Really? I summoned a monster to attack myself? What kind of person would do _that?_

"Be quiet, child," Chiron told her. Thank you!

We watched the body of the hellhound melt into shadow, soaking into the ground until it disappeared.

"You're wounded," Annabeth told me. "Quick, Percy, get in the water." Yep. She's figured it out…

"I'm okay."

"No, you're not," she said. "Chiron, watch this."

I was too tired to argue. It hurt so much so I decided to step into the water to reveal myself. I stepped back into the creek, the whole camp gathering around me.

Instantly, I felt better. I could feel the cuts on my chest closing up. Some of the campers gasped.

"Look, I-I don't know why," I said, trying to apologize. "I'm sorry..." I didn't know it was going to be that bad…

But they weren't watching my wounds heal. They were staring at something above my head.

"Percy," Annabeth said, pointing. "Um ..."

By the time I looked up, the sign was already fading, but I could still make out the hologram of green light, spinning and gleaming. A three-tipped spear: a trident. Ohhhh… Is that what it means to get claimed?

"Your father," Annabeth murmured. "This is _really_ not good."

"It is determined," Chiron announced.

All around me, campers started kneeling, even the Ares cabin, though they didn't look happy about it. I bet they didn't like that one bit!

"My father?" I asked, completely bewildered. What's happening? Does this happen for every demigod?

"Poseidon," said Chiron. "Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God."

* * *

 **A/N: Finally at the end of We Capture The Flag. I'll stop basing it a lot on the books, the rest from now on will be primarily an OC story. Hopefully there will be less deaths in the end. Depending on who you guys want to die or not…**

 **The next chapter will be much shorter and original. Hope you guys enjoy!**


	18. It's Her

**A/N: We're finally here. The mysterious girl is finally here!  
This is an original chapter so it belongs to me but the characters _do_ belong to Rick Riordan except for my character…**

 **Hope you guys enjoy it. Here we go…**

* * *

 ** _It's Her…_**

Later that day, Chiron moved me to cabin three.

I didn't have to share with anybody. I had plenty of room for all my stuff: the Minotaur's horn, one set of spare clothes, and a toiletry bag. I got to sit at my own dinner table, pick all my own activities, call "lights out" whenever I felt like it, and not listen to anybody else.

And I was absolutely miserable.

As the day slowly faded into the night, the night brought an onslaught of dreams.

I imagined myself running for my life through a blanket of trees until I reached a hill. It seemed familiar to me but I couldn't remember where I'd seen it before. Something was chasing me but I didn't know what. All I knew was that I had to run because my life depended on it.

In the dream I looked left, right, forwards, backwards, up and down. I was nervous. But why?

Beads of perspiration rolled down my face in agonisingly slow droplets.

 _ **ROAR!**_

My fatigued body jerked off my bed in the Poseidon cabin.

So it _was_ a dream! But why did it feel so real, I questioned myself. I stared at the ceiling hoping to gain a reply but nothing could come up to my muddled brain.

I turned over hoping to finally drift off into the world of dreams and then...

 _ **ROAR!**_

Was that real? Or am I imagining things again?

 _ **ROAR!**_

Nope. It's real.

I tumbled out of bed, still in a daze since sleep had a slight hold on me still. I then ran, mainly stumbled, towards the cabin door hoping that the monster wasn't at my door, ready to eat my face off.

1… 2… 3…

I yanked my door open. Huh. No monster.

It seemed as if the other members of camp thought the same as I did. Good. I'm not hallucinating after all. We all gazed around camp and at each other hoping someone would have the answers to what was going on.

 _ **ROAR!**_

We all frantically searched the area with our eyes. Everyone was reluctant to leave the safety of their cabins since there was no monster in sight but the sound of the monster's roar still permeated the air. And thunder, but no lightning, shook the earth and made us look to the sky in worry. When has there ever been thunder without lightning? What's happening?

Finally, Chiron came skidding around the corner of the cabins with Mr. D casually hurrying behind him with his can of coke.

At the sight of Chiron, all the demigods left the warmth of their cabins and we converged around the two immortals. Nature spirits, satyrs and naiads also seemed to have woken at the sound of the monster's roars and joined us... Everyone spoke at once questioning Chiron and Mr. D about the cause of the disturbance. Chiron tried to placate everyone but nothing seemed to calm the crowd down. Mr. D just stood beside him, casually sipping his drink and rolling his eyes at each question my fellow demigods screamed at Chiron.

 _ **ROAR!**_

We were all silenced and even Mr. D stopped taking a sip of his drink.

I broke the silence by tentatively asking the one question we were all wondering, "What's going on Chiron? Why does it seem like a monster is right at our doorstep?"

Clarisse sneered behind me, "You're no senior leader Jackson. If he didn't answer us, he will **not** answer **you**!"

"Hush child," Chiron cut off her tirade, "And to answer your question Percy, all your questions, there _are_ monsters near the camp"

"Monsters?" Annabeth quickly caught on and questioned, "As in more than one?"

Monsters? More? Is this my fault?

As if she could read my mind, "This is all _**your**_ fault Jackson. If we didn't shelter a son of Poseidon then we wouldn't have a beacon screaming that we are all here!"

"Clarisse shut your trap." Luke quickly countered, "Chiron, what will we do?"

"All of you grab your weapons and meet back up at Half-Blood Hill, just before the boundary line ends. No one is to cross the boundary line. Is that clear? Cabin leaders, take your campers back to your cabins and retrieve your weapons. Percy, hurry to the armoury and retrieve a sword and armour."

We all nodded and I quickly fled towards the armoury to retrieve a sword. By the time I picked out the sword, which I fought Luke with in my first training session, and put on my armour as well as get to the top of the hill, only the Athena Cabin was present. I stood just behind them, hoping not to be noticed...

"Percy, come here." Chiron called me over. Well there goes that plan.

I hurried to Chiron's side and noticed he had donned on armour, his bow was clenched in his hand and his quiver rested on his back. Mr. D stood beside Chiron in the same outfit he wore when he greeted me for the first time. Doesn't he have any other clothes? Isn't he worried? Shouldn't he be wearing armour? Questions flooded my head...

I turned my head and look around me and I jumped back slightly.

Annabeth's grey eyes stared back at me in curiosity and annoyance. She was probably wondering, just like I was, why _I_ got to stand next to out camp leader. I don't have any clue why either, I mentally sent to her.

The sound of clinking armour caught our attention.

She turned away from me and we both turned our gaze towards the Hermes cabin being lead by Luke, the Ares cabin being lead over by Clarisse and the Hephaestus cabin by a large built guy, Beckendorf is his name I think...

We all stood in silence as the other cabins soon arrived holding their weapons. The Apollo cabin joined us at the front and spaced themselves across the boundary line and held their bows at the ready, just like Chiron. Their head councillor stood just a bit further down from me. He was tense but ready...

 _ **ROAR!**_

The younger campers flinched but stood steady. True warriors...

There was a rustle in the tall grass below. Everyone tensed and held their weapons steadily. I held the unbalanced sword up, just like the others ad waited in anticipation.

A cloaked figure burst out of the grass below.

Mr. D froze beside Chiron. "Hold. Don't shoot" He ordered. The archers followed orders and there was finally a flash of lightning. The lightning lit up the figure's face as she looked up towards the sky and towards us and only her eyes could be seen. She didn't seem to notice us as she turned around to face the grass.

She looked so familiar...

We all watched in confusion. What's she doing? It's safer inside the boundary lines. Hurry and get up here!

Several figures lumbered out of the grass. Thanks to Chiron's lessons at Yancy and my own experiences, I knew what they were.

A fury. A hydra. And several empousai.

How did she survive with all these monsters chasing after her? I could barely handle the minotaur on its own but here she is with seven or more monsters gunning for her life.

She reached behind her and pulled the bow from her back. She pulled the string of her bow and an arrow appeared. What? How did that happen? She let go and shot an empousai. She shot another three before they came too close for comfort so she pulled out her sword and placed the bow securely on to her back.

Her sword came in contact with two more empousai and they turned into gold dust. She met the fury half way and jumped over it. As the fury spun round to get it's kill, she drew out her dagger and threw it at the monster so it too turned into dust. More empousa seemed to appear from out of no where to fight her off...

 _ **ROAR!**_

We all stood in awe and fear as the figure fought off all the monsters by herself.

"Wow," Annabeth murmured, "She's just like Thalia!"

The hydra came forward and she met it head on. As the head of the beast lunged forward to devour her, she slid underneath it and chopped off its head.

"Idiot. Two more heads will grow back." Clarisse snarled.

Clarisse's words came true and two heads grew back.

"Chiron should we do something?" Luke asked.

But Mr. D answered for him. "No. Do not do anything. This girl seems to know what she's doing. You could all learn something from her..."

Annabeth quickly protested, "But sir-"

"Hush Anniebelle" He quickly replied and she scowled but did as told and continued watching the fight.

She seemed to struggle a bit as she fought off the multitude of heads util finally, one of the empousa managed to scratch her with it's talons. She grew angered and sliced the monster in half so it dissipated into dust. She seemed slightly more fatigued as she fought with her injury. More monsters came and she got nicked a couple of times by their claws and teeth. The hydra came stooping in and that seemed to anger her.

 _ **Arrrrrggggghhhhh!**_

She screamed to the heavens and a flash of lightning hit the hydra which caused it stumble away from her. How did that happen?

As she stood straighter to fight she powerfully yanked back her hands, as if to shrug, and something burst out of the grass.

Water.

It surrounded her and she grew stronger. She glared fiercely at the hydra and she spun, turned, twirled the water around her quicker and quicker until it formed a mini hurricane around her.

The wind grew stronger around us and lightning struck the ground near us.

She moved her hands and reached out, the water copied her movements and reached for the empousa. She clenched her fist and and monsters turned into dust under the pressure of the tonnes of water pressing down on it.

The only think left was the hydra.

 _ **ROAR!**_

As the hydra roared, she screamed back at it and the water surrounding her spun faster and she held her arm out and bashed her fist towards the ground. Lightning flew down from the sky and struck the hydra.

It turned into dust.

The girl released her hurricane as she looked around her, searching for any lingering monsters. Nothing.

She turned towards us and a hint of a tired smile came to her lips.

She slowly trudged up the hill towards the still frozen demigods. We all backed up, in fear or in awe of the immensity of her powers...

She stopped just before the barrier and stuck her foot out as if to check if the barrier was still present. She hesitated before stepping forwards to stand in front of Mr. D and Chiron.

Chiron looked shocked to say the least. I'm still in shock. I'm pretty sure we all are...

Mr. D on the other hand had a blank face as he stared hard at the figure beside him. What he did next shocked me and probably everyone else around me.

He stepped forwards to greet the girl and wrapped his arms around her and crushed her in a hug.

My mouth dropped open in shock. What?

I turned towards my fellow demigods and I saw they had the same expression I did.

"Welcome..." He whispered to her.

"Thank you." She whispered back.

Annabeth, Chiron and I seemed to be the only ones that heard their exchange.

He pulled away from and she turned towards Chiron and flung herself at him.

"It's been a while Chiron! I have missed you..." A British accent left her mouth. She's a brit? I don't understand what's going on...

"I have missed you too dear..." How did they know her?

They pulled away from each other and she turned towards me.

"Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon, it's nice to finally meet you..."

I was shocked. She knew me? I didn't even get to flinch as she announced my full name.

She reached up to her hood and pulled it down. Just as she pulled it down a hologram of green light, spinning and gleaming of a three-tipped spear: a trident appeared on top of her head. Everyone slowly started to kneel, just like they did for me.

"Hello, little brother..."


	19. It's Her Part II

It took a while for the shock to wear off but it did eventually. But by the time that happened, Chiron already sent us all off to our cabins with no explanation as to who she was…

"Where have you been my dear? Why are you-" By then, I got too far away from Chiron to hear what he was saying to her.

 _ **Her…**_

Sister.

Could she really?

As I walked back to my cabin, I heard more whispers… _Another child of Poseidon? A daughter? Too powerful… Is_ he _gonna be like that too? Wow. She's hot…_

The last comment nearly made me turn around and punch the guy. That's my sister you're talking about, I wanted to scream. But what right do I have? She's clearly the elder sibling and I barely know the girl…

So I ignore the nagging feeling at the back of my head and ignored the comments and the volley of questions my own head were screaming and just walked back to my cabin.

I'll just wait for in cabin three. I'll get my answers then…

I sat on my bed in cabin three waiting for my sister to show up, watching the door for the smallest of movements.

I'd been sat on my bed for around an hour or so. She's taking ages! I know Mr. D and Chiron are immortals but I'm not and neither is she so we're not gonna live forever. Ergo, she can't be with them forever…

As I ranted to myself in my head, I almost missed the sound of the door creaking open.

I jumped up from my bed and looked towards the door.

She stood in the doorway, she pushed forward. Gently smiling at me as she strode forward, I tentatively smiled back.

I got up to my bed as the distance between us got smaller and smaller.

When she reached me, she pulled me into a tight hug.

I relished in the comfort of being in someone's warm arms again as I hugged her back. I miss mom…

We stood there hugging for a while until she finally let go and looked at me, for the first time, clearly and with no barriers.

With her hood gone, I could finally see her face.

She had deep black hair which matched my own. Her hair was in curls framing her angelic face. Her hair seemed to reach her armpits but I'm sure if it were straight then it would be longer… She had smooth unblemished porcelain pale skin and high cheek bones. Her lips seemed naturally ruby red. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was a human version of Snow White… Not that Snow White wasn't human! Framing her eyes were thick eyelashes that I'm sure every girl would envy for… Her eyes… They were unique. I had never seen anyone blue eyes like hers. They were an ocean blue hue which sparkled on its own. But there was something else… There were onyx bits in her eye which seem to flicker and glitter. They were there on moment and gone the next. It was weird…

And yet so familiar!

I broke the silence that we seemed to have lapsed into.

"You know who I am. But who are you?" I've been asking this question all year and I'll finally get my answer!

"I'm your elder half-sister by a couple of years."

"I know that! You announced it in front of the whole camp. Your name. What is it?" I exclaimed with pent up frustration.

She paused and her lips slowly twitched into a smile.

"Jessalyn Sophia Loukas, Daughter of Poseidon. Everyone called me Jessie but you can call me whatever you like little brother…"

"Ally. Can I call you Ally?" I hesitantly questioned.

"Yeah. Yeah yo can Perseus" she grinned her innocent smile as she stepped towards the bed closest to the window.

Perseus? No. She can't be-

"You." She quickly turned around and faced me again but gone was her gentle smile. In it's place rested a smirk. A smirk I'm pretty sure was gonna annoy me for a long time coming…

"At the museum. In my head. All year. It was you…" I stuttered out the cluster of thoughts my brain kept churning around.

"It was." came her short reply.

"But why?"

"Why indeed… I'll tell you why tomorrow. I'm dead tired. We have all day tomorrow brother so call the lights off and go to sleep. You gotta be ready for tomorrow because I'm teaching you how to fight with a sword tomorrow!"

The idea of training with a master like her excited me so much that I'm pretty sure I won't even be able to sleep tonight because of the anticipation…

"Wait. Turn out the lights? Shouldn't you do it? You're the eldest."

"I may be the eldest sibling my dearest little fry but you arrived at camp first so you're cabin counsellor…"

Little fry? That's what she stopped herself from saying all those conversations ago!

"Little fry? Where did that co-"

"Shhhh Percy, I ran several miles to get her alive and fought an army of monsters. I'll tell you tomorrow."

"Okay Ally… Goodnight! Lights out…"

When I woke up the next day, free of dreams, Ally wasn't in her bed.

Where did she go now?

As I started to panic, I heard movement towards the back of the cabin. Stepping out from a door that I never noticed before, a freshly showered and dress Ally stepped out.

"Morning little fry!" She happily chirped.

"Morning…" I grumbled back as I stumbled out of bed. "Why are you up so early?"

"I just came from a jog round camp and I was really sweaty. It was disgusting… so I showered!"

Silence ensued as I stared at her as if she had three heads. She sounds like a daughter of Aphrodite!

"Well okay… get dressed Percy. We're gonna have breakfast!"

I did as I was told (surprising! I know!) and quickly got dressed and joined my sister at the cabin door.

As well left the comfort of our cabin, I finally noticed what she was wearing.

She was in a flowy baby pink top and a flowery skirt. She wore heels - wedges I think they're called, and a zircon blue cloak on her shoulders.

Why is she wearing that in a camp where you fight people on a daily basis? Maybe it's a girl thing…

Sure. We'll go with that!

By the time we got to the mess hall, all the other cabins had already arrived and were sharing the food. But they all stopped once we arrived at the door…

Of course they did! Don't these guys have anything to do other than look at us and whisper?

When I paused at the door, Ally paused beside me and scanned the area. She nudged my side and I turned towards her. She smirked and raised an eyebrow at me. What is she gonna do?

I watched in amusement as she bowed to all the other demigods and danced towards our table. A followed after her as several jaws dropped at the sight of my sister in a dress…

As she arrived at our table, she grabbed several pancakes. And by several, I mean a mountain. Can she really eat that much pancakes? How can she fit that in her tiny figure?

When I arrived at my table, the level of noise rose again. My sister turned towards me and said, "Come on little fry, we gotta give our offerings to the Gods…"

She carried her plate a one hand and avoided the feet the Ares' cabin stuck out to trip her up. She dropped thirteen pancakes into the fire and murmured something in Greek which I couldn't catch… She gave room for me and gave an offering to my father. _Thank you for not making me go though this alone…_

We mad our way back to our table and ate the remaining of our food. Due to her offerings, she only had three pancakes left. Okay, so she can't eat that much then!

" **SO** what are we doing today little brother?" Her question startled me from my daze that I slipped into.

"What do'u mean?" I questioned her.

"You are the cabin councillor so you can decide what we can do." She instantly replied.

"How about sword fighting? You did say that you'd teach me…"

"Great. Let's go to the armoury then."

As we left there were whispers again.

When we got far enough away from the mess hall, I asked her, "Are you fighting in your sundress?"

She turned towards me and raised her eyebrow mockingly, "What you don't think I can do it?"

My silence was her answer. "Well then yes, I am going to fight you in a dress little fry!"

Not long after, we were in the arena.

That's weird. A lot more cabins were here now. There usually isn't this many is there? What's everyone doing here?

Ally paid them no attention and moved to the area we could put our stuff down. She lay down her bow and arrows and daggers which she picked up at our cabin, which is probably why all the other cabins beat us here…

She then took off her cloak revealing, for the first time, her dress and heels. Whispers once again broke out but she ignored them and walked towards the only space available, which unfortunately was the centre of the arena…

I quickly followed after her, eager to learn her ways.

When I reached her, she was fiddling with a ring, which I now realised, was on her her index finger. Once she saw me approach, she slid off her ring and threw it up in the air. But it wasn't a ring that came back down. It glittered in the sun as a sword dropped into her hands. She caught it with her right hand, once she caught it, she swung it around elegant spins until she pointed it at me. She raised her eyebrow again, silently questioning me. That sarcastic eyebrow raise of hers is getting annoying!

Everyone watched us as I stepped towards her.

"Get out your sword and get into your stance." She started her instructions, and perfected my 'form' as she called it.

"How's that feel?" She questioned me, "Are you tense, loose? Relaxed?"

"A bit tense" I replied.

"Okay, let's change your stance a bit then." She moved me around until I finally felt loose and relaxed.

"Why do I need to do this, my other instructor didn't teach me this?"

"That's because this is an 'irrelevant' lesson to some."

"Is it?"

"Is it what, little fry?"

"…irrelevant? Is it irrelevant?"

"No, it isn't, it might just save your life one day little brother! What people don't realise is that without form and elegance, how are you supposed fight so many monsters at all. The greek way of fighting has always been loose and free compared to the romans structured ways. It's what made greek children of Poseidon so powerful. Fluidity. Children of Poseidon are connected to the sea and we symbolise water so we should theoretically flow through these moves!" She paused. "As children of the Gods, we are dyslexic and have ADHD right?" I nodded. "Therefore fighting comes naturally to us, no matter whose child we are. I mean if I-"

She cut herself off and swung at me. I lifted my arm and blocked her strike with my sword.

She nodded her head un approval, "Exactly! As demigods, we react instantly. It's easier to learn doing but I don't want to show you and try it against, it doesn't help… which is why being a child of Poseidon is such a blessing!"

What did she mean?

She didn't answer me as she turned away from me and faced the lake and shut her eyes. She slowly raised her hand and as flash as lightning she spun around and brought her hand towards the ground. Just as quickly, water rose from the lake and stood in a blob in front of her. She raised her hand and twitched her fingers until the blob lowered itself to the ground and slowly formed into the shape of a man. _**COOL! I wanna learn how to do that!**_

"The best offence is defence so I'm gonna teach you how to defend yourself with a complicated but easy to do move that I made up a while ago. Ready?" I nodded my head and watched her.

The water figure attacked her and she met it with her sword. Again and again. Their swords clashed: above their heads, close their chests until finally… The water figure went to strike her head and she grabbed its wrist. Ally went to strike the figure but obviously, in a way to get loose for Ally's hold, the figure grabbed the nook of Ally's arm. The added pressure of her sword arm made Ally let go of the figures arm so the figure let go of my sister's arm. The figure quickly spun around with her sword out, my sister ducked. As the figure went to strike again, their swords clashed again. My sisters left arm grabbed onto the figure's wrist and then pulled it down towards the ground. The force of the sword being pulled down, cause the figure to release the sword so my sister did a spin causing the figure's sword to end up behind its head and my sister's word to be pointing at the figure's throat…

There was silence. And then there were claps. I jolted from staring at my sister in awe and looked around. I grot the other campers were here. Even Mr. D and Chiron were in the stands cheering.

"You ready to try it?" She turned around and faced me.

"Ready."

And for once I was. I spent most the morning learning that move until I got it perfectly right. We spent the rest of the day roaming from activity to activity. And apologising to her saying I was wrong and that a girl can fight in a dress… I finally felt at home again. At least I wasn't alone anyone.

When dinner came around the most surprising person appeared in front of Ally at our table.

Clarisse.

She coughed and my sister stopped laughing at one of my jokes and turned towards the girl with a raised eyebrow. I swear when I met this girl, she was the most gentlest of souls but it seems she as sarcastic as me. At least I know it's a dad's side of the family thing…

"I was wondering if you could teach me that move you showed Prissy here" she spoke confidently. Her confidence slowly faltered as my sister seemed to stare into her soul.

"If you really want my help then you shouldn't insult my little brother like that."

"I know. I'm sorry." But my sister shook her head and turned towards me so Clarisse did too.

"I'm sorry…" she almost sounded sincere!

"Good." My sister replied, "Now what was it you were asking?"

"If you do or do not know, I'm the Ares head councillor and one the best fighters in camp but I need a teacher, mentor other than Chiron since he's busy with helping the other demigods. Will you please teach me?" By now everyone was quiet. Ally just stared at Clarisse long and hard. As if she was analysing her soul…

Eventually she nodded.

"Yes. I'll teach you." Clarisse smiled. Actually smiled. First time I had seen it. She turned away and slowly walked towards her table.

"Oh, Clarisse" She turned back round "He is proud of you, you know. Every parent is proud of their child. He's very proud. Trust me. I know…" She finished off ominously and began eating again.

The whispers rose again but I just ignored them and curiously stared at me sister.

She just smiled at me.

So smiled back.

I'm finally home… Nothing could ruin this now!

It was only after I fell asleep did I realise that she never did answer my questions…


	20. Do We Have To Go?

**Happy Easter for tomorrow guys! I'll see if I can update for tomorrow as well but we'll see…  
**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or plot. Only the twists I put into the plot and my character. All the rights to the main plot and characters belong to Rick Riordan.**

* * *

 ** _Do We Have To Go?!_**

I was right. The peace was never gonna last! The next couple of days kinda went into a pattern and I got used to it…

The other campers steered clear of me as much as possible. They stayed even further away from my sister. After that show in the arena and the continuous lessons afterwards, I can officially say that the other campers were scared of her and her blade, **Καλλικρατης**. When I saw the name, I instantly knew that it meant Beautiful Power. **καλλος** which was pronounced as _'kallos'_ meant beauty. I understand why. Ally had an aura around her that drew people in… And then **κρατος** was pronounced as _'kratos'_ meaning power. **Kallirates.** A deadly weapon handled by the most powerful person I knew…

Annabeth still taught me Greek in the mornings, but she seemed distracted. Every time I said something, she scowled at me, as if I'd just poked her between the eyes. I promised I didn't do anything! Usually the whole cabin does the same activity at the same time but Allie was already fluent in many many _many_ languages. She spoke most European languages and a many other languages from around the world. Other than that she could also speak fluent Ancient Greek as well as Latin. I don't know how she did it because most demigods were dyslexic but then she explained it to me.

It turns out that she has a photographic memory. With this helpful trait, she was blessed with, she can read any book in the world and remember what she read ten years later. She also remembers every taste, smell and sound that she hears. It's pretty cool… Unless of course if she hears something horrible then it would be a curse…

But yeah. It was quite unfair because she'd leave me in Annabeth's care and go surfing… Surfing I know… With her Poseidon powers she ca summon a wave and because of that she has several hours of surfing everyday whilst I suffer learning Ancient Greek and everyone else looks at her with jealousy when she comes back from the beach holding her surf board and wearing a two piece swimsuit and a towel covering her lower half. I don't know how many people I had to glare at as they drooled after her…

After our lessons, Annabeth would walk away muttering to herself: "Quest… Poseidon?… Dirty rotten… Got to make a plan…" I hope I hadn't broken her but she was like a broken record so maybe I had…

Oddly enough even Clarisse kept her distance, though her venomous looks made it clear she wanted to kill me for breaking her magic spear. I wished she would just yell or punch me or something. I'd rather get into fights every day than be ignored. She did however talk to my sister a lot. **A lot.** They would constantly train. Every time they'd finish a session, Clarisse would come out smiling and laughing and more confident than she did when she came into the arena. She didn't have as many lessons as I did with Ally but she sure was improving her fighting much better. With a sword and with a spear. She was dangerous before but she's close to becoming deadly…

It wasn't fair really. I had been at camp longer and yet my sister had more friends than I did. I think that might be because they wanted more allies than enemies but it's embarrassing nevertheless!

I knew somebody at camp resented me, because one night I came into my cabin and found a mortal newspaper dropped inside the doorway, not that there were any godly news articles. I snorted out loud at that thought but stopped - wait. Are there demigod or godly newspapers? Gotta ask Allie or Annabeth that later… The article did in fact take me almost an hour to read, because the angrier I got, the more the words floated around on the page.

 **BOY AND MOTHER STILL MISSING AFTER FREAK CAR ACCIDENT**  
BY EILEEN SMYTHE

I read the article thoroughly and saw that the phone number was circled in black marker.

I wadded up the paper and threw it away, then flopped down in my bunk bed in the middle of my empty cabin.

"Lights out," I told myself miserably.

That night, I had my worst dream yet.

I was running along the beach in a storm. About a hundred yards down the surf, two men were fighting. They were muscular, with beards and long hair and they both wore the traditional Greek tunics, one man had trimmed in blue, the other in green. The two men grappled with each other, wrestled, kicked and head-butted, and every time they connected, lightning flashed, the sky grew darker, and the wind rose.

I felt as if I had to stop them, I didn't know why but I felt like it would make someone happier if they weren't fighting. I don't know who I was helping. It didn't make sense… What was going on?

Over the roar of the storm, I could hear the blue-robed one yelling at the green-robed one, **_Give it back! Give it back!_** Like a kindergartner fighting over a toy. There was a girl in between them trying to split them apart, **_Dad! Father! Stop this! Poseidon. Zeus. Stop this madness! Apollo, Hera, Athena! Help Me! Artemis, Ares, Hephaestus…_** Her screams were drowned out as the waves collided with the sand. She yelling the names of the gods… So the man in green must be my dad- Poseidon which leaves the man in blue to be Zeus but who is the girl?

The waves got bigger, crashing into the beach, spraying me with salt. I love the sea but right now I hate it…

I yelled, **_Stop it! Stop fighting!_**

The ground shook. Laughter came from somewhere under the earth, and a voice so deep and evil it turned my blood to ice. **_'Come down, little hero,'_** the voice crooned. _**'Come down!'**_ Who is that? Why are they calling to me? I felt compelled to almost follow their voice…

 ** _'NO! Perseus don't give in!'_** a voice yelled at me.

The sand split beneath me, opening up a crevice straight down to the center of the earth. My feet slipped, and darkness swallowed me.

I woke up, sure I was falling.

I was still in bed in cabin three. My body told me it was morning, but it was dark outside, and thunder rolled across the hills. A storm was brewing. I hadn't dreamed that. My sister was sat up beside me on my bed, staring at me in concern.

"Percy, what's wrong? You were talking in your sleep and you kept rolling over. Is there something wrong?" She cooed in concern. I shook my head so she wouldn't be concerned.

As I did so, I heard a clopping sound at the door, a hoof knocking on the threshold. Grover…

"Come in?"

Grover trotted inside, looking worried. "Mr. D wants to see you. Both of you… Says he wants to kill... I mean, I'd better let him tell you. So you better "

My sister answered for us, "We'll be there soon Grover…"

Nervously, I got dressed and followed, sure that I was in huge trouble. Allie who seemed to be already dressed, joined me at the door, still as calm as ever.

I've been expecting this since I was claimed. But then I was sure that this was going to happen after both children of Poseidon were claimed. They probably had a huge court meeting between all the Olympian council gods to decide our fate and now Mr. D was ready to deliver their verdict to is. I hope they aren't planning to kill us.

I asked Grover if we needed an umbrella because it looked like it was gonna rain soon.

"No," he said. "It never rains here unless we want it to. We like the weather a particular way so the strawberries we sell are it's best so we can get a lot more money to pay for camp expenses."

I pointed at the storm. "What the heck is that, then?"

He glanced uneasily at the sky. "It'll pass around us. Bad weather always does."

I realized he was right. In the week I'd been here, it had never even been overcast. The few rain clouds I'd seen had skirted right around the edges of the valley.

But this storm… this one was huge.

The God of the Skies is Zeus so he must be really angry over something! Maybe it is because of the claiming of two of his brother's children. Children who were safe within camp borders whilst his daughter was a tree protecting the camp for the rest of her life…

At the volleyball pit, the kids from Apollo's cabin were playing a morning game against the satyrs. Dionysus's twins were walking around in the strawberry fields, making the plants grow. Everybody was going about their normal business, but they looked tense. They kept their eyes on the storm. See. Even they know something's not right. Ally was silent as we walked towards the Big House, she too, realised how grave the situation was becoming.

Grover, my sister and I walked up to the front porch of the Big House. Dionysus and Chiron sat at the pinochle table just as they had on my first day here at camp. The only person missing is Annabeth! I wonder where she is right now? They were playing against invisible opponents - two sets of cards hovering in the air. I wonder how they did that… My inner thoughts were cut off by Mr. D's drawl…

"Well, well. Our little celebrity." He sounds like Snape in the first Harry Potter fil- _Focus little fry!_

Did I mention that Ally went back to her telepathic ways? No. Well you know now…

I waited.

"Come closer," Mr. D said. "And don't expect me to bow down to you, mortal, just because old Barnacle - Beard is your father." He seemed to direct that comment at me and completely ignored my sister who stood bedside me, gazing at Mr. D impassively.

A net of lightning flashed across the clouds. Thunder shook the windows of the house.

"Blah, blah, blah," Dionysus said. No one seemed to pay attention to him or the lightning, well at least they acted as if they didn't care. Grover wasn't that good at it because he just cowered in the corner. I need to help build up this guy's self-esteem… But how do I do that?

"If I had my way," Dionysus said, "I would cause your molecules to erupt in flames. We'd sweep up the ashes and be done with a lot of trouble. But Chiron seems to feel this would be against my mission at this cursed camp: to keep you little brats safe from harm. And let's not forget your wonderful big sister would keep slap me until she was satisfied if I did that."

"Spontaneous combustion is a form of harm, Mr. D," Chiron put in whilst Allie glared at Mr. D and commented cooly, "I'd do more than slap you D!"

"Nonsense," Dionysus said. "Boy wouldn't feel a thing. Nevertheless, I've agreed to restrain myself I'm thinking of turning you into a dolphin instead, sending you back to your father."

"Mr. D-" Chiron warned.

"D!" My sister screamed.

"Oh, all right," Dionysus relented. "There's one more option. But it's deadly foolishness. But cares for that right! I'd have one less demigod to deal with…" Dionysus rose, and the invisible players' cards dropped to the table. One less demigod? There's two of… "I'm off to Olympus for the emergency meeting. If the boy is still here when I get back, I'll turn him into an Atlantic bottlenose. Do you understand? And Perseus Jackson, if you're at all smart, you'll see that's a much more sensible choice than what Chiron feels you must do. Now let's go girly. You are coming with me…"

Dionysus picked up a playing card, twisted it, and it became a plastic rectangle. A credit card? No. A security pass.

My sister stepped towards him and looped her arm through his. What are they doing?

He snapped his fingers.

The air seemed to fold and bend around them and then he became a hologram, then there was a breeze, a suddenly he was gone, leaving only the smell of fresh-pressed grapes lingering behind.

Chiron smiled at me, but he looked tired and strained. "Sit, Percy, please. And Grover."

We did. Chiron started off small until I broke the conversation by saying, "Poseidon and Zeus," I said. "They're fighting over something valuable… something that was stolen, aren't they?"

They exchanged looks so I revealed to them what I knew. I tried to act confident but I felt as if what I knew wasn't the best thing to know, "The weather since Christmas has been weird, like the sea and the sky are fighting. Annabeth said she'd overheard something about a theft. And… I've also been having these dreams. So I added it all up and it led me to that conclusion" I finished.

Chiron and Grover argued for a while, debating over whether something was meant of me, I tuned back in as Chiron revealed that, "-ur father and Zeus are having their worst quarrel in centuries. They are fighting over something valuable that was stolen. To be precise: a lightning bolt."

I laughed nervously since I seemed to have missed an important part of the conversation. "A what?"

He continued to scold me as he explained how the lightning bolt was made and why two of the eldest gods were fighting. It seems that the bolt was-

"Stolen," Chiron said.

"By who?" Who in there right mind would steal the king of the god's weapon?

"By whom," Chiron corrected. Once a teacher, always a teacher. I wonder who stole it? "By you."

My mouth fell open. _Wha-?_ I never knew I sto- wake up Percy! You didn't steal the bolt! I'm pretty sure you'd have known if you had stolen lightning on Olympus. I'm pretty sure you would know you were on Olympus. Idiot!

Chiron wouldn't let me talk for a while… He kept interrupting me to explain why I was the prime suspect in stealing the bolt… I may have called the king of the gods crazy just a moment ago. Am I crazy to have said that?

"Perhaps _paranoid,_ " Chiron suggested. "Then again, Poseidon has tried to unseat Zeus before. I believe that was question thirty-eight on your final exam…" He looked at me as if he actually expected me to remember question thirty-eight. I'm not the one with a photographic memory! Why couldn't you have asked my sister when she was here! She may not have been with me when I took the exam but I'm sure she would have answered the question correctly anyway! Think. Think! Wasn't it about a golden net? I should answer. He's waiting for a reply!

"Something about a golden net?" I guessed. "Poseidon and Hera and a few other gods… they, like, trapped Zeus and wouldn't let him out until he promised to be a better ruler, right?"

"Correct," Chiron said. "And Zeus has never trusted Poseidon since. Of course, Poseidon denies stealing the master bolt. He took great offense at the accusation. The two have been arguing back and forth for months, threatening war. And now, you've come along-the proverbial last straw."

"But I'm just a kid!" Thanks dad! You just had to trap your brother like a fish! Now he's getting revenge! Uhhhh… When did my life become the plot of a tragedy?

Chiron continued to explain how bad the situation was. I couldn't wrap my head around the situation so whenever he'd asks me my opinion on how severe I thought the situation was, I'd reply that is was, "Bad."

"And you, Percy Jackson, would be the first to feel Zeus's wrath." Of course I would be! Thanks again dad!

It started to rain. Volleyball players stopped their game and stared in stunned silence at the sky. It never rained at camp!

 _I_ had brought this storm to Half-Blood Hill. Zeus was punishing the whole camp because of me. I was furious. How dare he punish the rest for the _apparent_ sins of one individual! If this is how he treats one demigod, his nephew, how does he treat the rest of humanity?

"So I have to find the stupid bolt," I said. "And return it to Zeus."

"What better peace offering," Chiron said, "than to have the son of Poseidon return Zeus's property?"

Chiron and Grover tried to encourage me into taking this quest. But why? Wouldn't I be safer in camp? But then again, I would be risking the lives of the other campers so I better take the quest. It is a better option than being turned into a dolphin - although I would like to swim with one, one day! That would be cool…

"Then it's time you consulted the Oracle," Chiron said. "Go upstairs, Percy Jackson, to the attic. When you come back down, assuming you're still sane, we will talk more."


	21. Do We Have To Go? Part II

Four flights up, the stairs ended under a green trap-door.

I pulled the cord. The door swung down, and a wooden ladder clattered into place.

There was an awful stench so I held my breath and climbed.

The attic was filled with Greek hero junk. I wonder why they kept all this stuff? They must be war prizes just like my minotaur, should that be in here too? I gazed around and looked towards the window, sitting on a wooden tripod stool, was the most gruesome memento of all: a mummy. She'd been dead a long, long time. To be honest with you, she was scary and vile. I think I found the source of the smell as well as what was the non-living thing in the attic that Chiron and I argued over on my first day here at camp!

A green mist poured from the mummy's mouth, it came closer and closer towards me so I stumbled over myself trying to get to the trap-door, but it slammed shut. This is just like that haunted house mom and I visited when I was younger! Inside my head, I heard a voice, slithering into one ear and coiling around my brain: **_I am the spirit of Delphi, speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python. Approach, seeker, and ask._**

I wanted to say, _No thanks, wrong door, just looking for the bathroom._ But I forced myself to take a deep breath. Ally wouldn't be proud of you, neither would mom or dad, if you ran away like a coward. Stand your ground!

It's presence wasn't evil, it felt like the aura emitting from the Three Fates I'd seen knitting the yarn outside the highway fruit stand: ancient, powerful, and definitely not human. But not particularly interested in killing me, either. That's good! At least I'm not gonna die!

I got up the courage to ask, "What is my destiny?"

The green ominous mist swirled around to form the men that I hated most in my life. My fists clenched, though I knew this poker party couldn't be real. It was an illusion, made out of mist.

 ** _You shall go west, and face the god who has turned.  
You shall find what was stolen, and see it safely returned.  
You shall know the truth, about the daughter of the sea._**  
 ** _You shall see the sparks of true love, to be._**  
 ** _You shall he betrayed by one who calls you a friend.  
And you shall fail to save what matters most, in the end._**

I was stunned by the course that future will take and so I didn't react when the figures dissolved into dust so I missed my chance to get my reply when I cried, "Wait! What do you mean? What friend? What will I fail to save?"

The mummy reverted back to what she like before I disturbed her and everything seemed normal.

I got the feeling that I could stand here until I had cobwebs, too, and I wouldn't learn anything else. My audience with the Oracle was over. So left and returned downstairs to face the half-animal creatures who I know as my best friend and mentor…

"Well?" Chiron asked me. He wasted no time in asking me what was to come…

I slumped into a chair at the pinochle table. "She said I would retrieve what was stolen."

Grover sat forward, chewing excitedly on the remains of a Diet Coke can. "That's great!" It's really not, buddy! Questions swarmed my brain as I floundered to thin of a reply.

"What did the Oracle say _exactly?_ " Chiron pressed. "This is important." He has been alive for along time so he knows that something is wrong…

My ears were still tingling from the scaly voice. "She… she said I would go west and face a god who had turned. I would retrieve what was stolen and see it safely returned."

"I knew it," Grover said. No you didn't buddy. You thought Mr. D was gonna kill me half an hour ago!

Chiron didn't look satisfied. "Anything else?" He's suspicious. _Uh oh…_

I didn't want to tell him.

What friend would betray me? I didn't have that many.

And the last line - I would fail to save what mattered most. What kind of Oracle would send me on a quest and tell me, _Oh, by the way, you'll fail._

How could I confess that? Maybe I should reveal to him the calmer parts.

"The Oracle also said uhhh… knowing the truth, about the daughter of the sea, so I'm gonna find out something about my sister and then it said that I would see the sparks of true love, to be. So that's okay, I think. Uuuuummmm… But other than that… No," I said. "That's about it."

He studied my face. "Very well, Percy. But know this: the Oracle's words often have double meanings. Don't dwell on them too much. The truth is not always clear until events come to pass."

I got the feeling he knew I was holding back something bad, and he was trying to make me feel better.

"Okay," I said, anxious to change topics. "So where do I go? Who's this god in the west?"

Chiron gave me hints so I could make the conclusion myself, but in the end I thought, "Hades."

Chiron nodded. "The Lord of the Dead is the only possibility." Is he really the only possibility? What would he gain from a war between his brothers? Wouldn't that mean there would be more death and therefore more people would be in his kingdom? Are there any other deities out there who would benefit from the war? I kept these ideas to myself though, I didn't want to question Chiron, he was the one who knew the gods the most between the two of us.

A scrap of aluminum dribbled out of Grover's mouth. "Whoa, wait. Wh-what?" Ewwww Grover! Eat with your mouth shut! Didn't your mama goat teach you manners?

It went on for a while: Grover and Chiron debating back and forth about why the Lord of the Underworld wanted to kill me. If it were somebody else, it would be funny because they're talking about me as if I wasn't here but you know… I am here so it is a bit (very) rude!

"Great," I muttered. "That's two major gods who want to kill me." Two out of the twelve Olympians - that sounds bad! Two out of the hundreds of gods out there; that sounds a tiny bit better…

But the two half animals ignored me and carried on with their own argument…

A strange fire burned in my stomach. The weirdest thing was: it wasn't fear. It was anticipation. The desire for revenge. Hades had tried to kill me three times so far, with the Fury, the Minotaur, and the hellhound. It was his fault my mother had disappeared in a flash of light. Now he was trying to frame me and my dad for a theft we hadn't committed. If he committed the crime in first place, a voice reminded me at the back of my head. I thought it was Allie at first but I realised she was still on Olympus so she probably can't communicate from that far…

I was ready to take him on. Well, as much as you can take on one of the most eldest Olympians… Okay I'm not ready for this… To be fair who would be ready for this?

Besides, if my mother was in the Underworld…

Whoa, boy, said the small part of my brain that was still sane. You're a kid. Hades is a god. There's that voice again! Maybe it _is_ Ally! Could it be? **_Nah…_**

Grover was trembling. He'd started eating pinochle cards like potato chips. Uhhhh… Grover! You don't know where they have been! Put them down Grover! Bad Gro- whoa! He's a goat; not a dog! I really need to pay attention!

The poor guy needed to complete a quest with me so he could get his searcher's license, whatever that was, but how could I ask him to do this quest, especially when the Oracle said I was destined to fail? This was suicide. plus the poor guy looks like he's about to collapse! I don't think he could handle it that well!

I ended their argument by speaking directly to Chiron.

"Look, if we know it's Hades," I told Chiron, "why can't we just tell the other gods? Zeus or Poseidon could go down to the Underworld and bust some heads." They're just as powerful as Hades, right, so if he _is_ the thief, they'll be able to tag team and take their older brother down - right? For some reason, I don't think they'll be able to work together long enough for that to happen!

As my thoughts progressed, I accidentally missed what Chiron said next. When I realised this, I tuned back into the real world.

"-other ancient rule. Heroes, on the other hand, have certain privileges. They can go anywhere, challenge anyone, as long as they're bold enough and strong enough to do it. No god can be held responsible for a hero's actions. Why do you think the gods always operate through humans?"

"You're saying I'm being used." My dad was using me? I've only known about the guy for a couple of days and he's already using me! Please don't be like Gabe. Please. _Please!_

"I'm saying it's no accident Poseidon has claimed you now. It's a very risky gamble, but he's in a desperate situation. He needs you."

My dad needs me. Probably just as much as I need mom. And now that I've met Ally, just as much as I need her too…

Emotions rolled around inside me like bits of glass in a kaleidoscope. A kaleidoscope. Wouldn't it be cool if you had kaleidoscope eyes? You eye colour would always be changing so it wouldn't be boring! Anyway… I didn't know whether to feel resentful or grateful or happy or angry. Poseidon had ignored me for twelve years. Now suddenly he needed me. _No._ A voice whispered in morning. That definitely wasn't Allie. That sounded too masculine…

I looked at Chiron. "You've known I was Poseidon's son all along, haven't you?" I wonder if he knew before I suspected it? He probably didn't know before Ally though, it seemed that whatever secret anyone had, she knew. My parentage, Clarisse's feelings etc. Speaking of knowing my parentage, I need to ask her all those questions that I forgot to ask her a couple of days ago.

I know. Don't yell at me for not asking me. I just found out I had a sister! I wanted to spend as much time as I could with her because I felt like this wasn't permanent…

"I had my suspicions. As I said… I've spoken to the Oracle, too." When though?

I got the feeling there was a lot he wasn't telling me about his prophecy, but I decided I couldn't worry about that right now. After all, I was holding back information too. Probably not as vital as what he's keeping but we are all entitled to secrets…

"So let me get this straight," I said. "I'm supposed go to the Underworld and confront the Lord of the Dead."

"Check," Chiron said. You say that as if it's one of the most easiest things to do!

"Find the most powerful weapon in the universe."

"Check." A weapon which can blow me to smithereens! Which in actual fact is in the hands of one of the eldest Olympian gods!

"And get it back to Olympus before the summer solstice, in ten days."

"That's about right." Geez. Is this what all first year campers do? Pressure much!

I looked at Grover, who gulped down the ace of hearts.

The two of us discussed over whether he would join me or not for a couple of moments, before we concluded that he would be going with me.

He took a deep breath, then stood, brushing the shredded cards and aluminum bits off his T-shirt. "You saved my life, Percy. If… if you're serious about wanting me along, I won't let you down."

I spent a few moments basking in the fact that I wouldn't have to go to the Underworld by myself…

"All the way, G-man." I turned to Chiron. "So where do we go? The Oracle just said to go west."

"The entrance to the Underworld is always in the west. It moves from age to age, just like Olympus. Right now, of course, it's in America." _Of course it is…_

"Where?" Do you really think I'd know where it is? Hello! Just found out about this world a couple of days ago! Give me a break…

Chiron looked surprised. "I thought that would be obvious enough. The entrance to the Underworld is in Los Angeles."

"Oh," Of course that is the most obvious place, I thought to myself sarcastically. I paused, maybe it is a bit obvious seeing as Los Angeles is Sin City after all! So I said. "Naturally. So we just get on a plane-"

"No!" Grover shrieked. "Percy, what are you thinking? Have you ever been on a plane in your life?"

I shook my head, feeling embarrassed. I forgot about that… My mom had never taken me anywhere by plane. She'd always said we didn't have the money. Besides, her parents had died in a plane crash. Seriously? I can't even get the luxury if travelling on a plane at least once in my life? Looks like I'm forever gonna be planted don the ground…

"Percy, think," Chiron said. "You are the son of the Sea God. Your father's bitterest rival is Zeus, Lord of the Sky. Your mother knew better than to trust you in an airplane. You would be in Zeus's domain. You would never come down again alive."

Overhead, lightning crackled. Thunder boomed. Thank you Lord Zeus for proving the point that you cannot be trusted!

"Okay," I said, determined not to look at the storm. "So, I'll travel overland." But how exactly are we gonna get there? We can't walk, it would be too far… Bus? Train?

"That's right," Chiron said. "Two companions may accompany you other than Grover. Grover is one out of the three companions. The other has already volunteered, if you will accept her help."

"Gee," I said, feigning surprise. "Who else would be stupid enough to volunteer for a quest like this?"

Annabeth where are you and that cap of yours? I looked around in search for a hint of another presence being there

 _Gotcha!_

The air shimmered behind Chiron.

Annabeth became visible, stuffing her Yankees cap into her back pocket. Found ya…

"I've been waiting a long time for a quest, seaweed brain," she said. "Athena is no fan of Poseidon, but if you're going to save the world, I'm the best person to keep you from messing up." Isn't she kind? Doesn't this girl run out of harsh things to say to me? I know she doesn't like me but must she really bully me so much? A little more violent acts and she'll be just like Clarisse.

"If you do say so yourself," I said. "I suppose you have a plan, wise girl?" The nickname suits her, where did it come from?

Her cheeks colored. "Do you want my help or not?"

The truth was, I did. I needed all the help I could get. All I needed was the last person in our companionship. I knew the perfect person for the job.

Just as that thought flashed through my head, the air shimmered again and a the smell of the sea invaded my senses.

There. Standing with her eyes shut and her hand on her sword which rested on her hip, was my sister.

"You gonna join me on this quest sis?" I casually asked her.

She shook herself to regain her bearings and finally her gaze settled on me as a smirk slowly rest don her face, "I wouldn't miss this for the world little fry!"

I returned her smirk as I said to no one in particular, "A quartet, that'll work."

"Excellent," Chiron said. "This afternoon, we can take you as far as the bus terminal in Manhattan. After that, you are on your own."

"Don't worry little fry, princess, goat-boat and Chiron, I've wondered around all of America. I know where to go afterwards…"

So we're taking the bus then. And after that it's up to Allie!

Lightning flashed. Zeus really needs to calm down. We're getting his bolt for him, all he needs to do is wait and watch! It's not that difficult… Rain poured down on the meadows that were never supposed to have violent weather.

"No time to waste," Chiron said. "I think you should all get packing."

And with that our meeting adjourned and we left to get ready or the quest which change my life all over again…


End file.
